Irreconcilable differences
by Candace Flynn alter ego
Summary: This Life is not easy. Being married to a Son is not easy. And leaving everything, including the man you still love, is not easy either... But can forgiveness exist in the middle of chaos, death, fear and passion? My husband is the most powerful man in Charming, and this is our story
1. It's ain't easy been queen

**_This is a story that I really wanted to write, but I wanted to make it different. I have read many and written many where the characters are known and everything is developing from that moment, but this will be different. Here, as it looks ... Jax and my OC already have a relationship. A marriage full of problems, of passion, of errors, of grudges and of mistakes, and they will have to see if it is worth solving it or not._**

 ** _Of course, there will be the framework of the club, the life, the town and everything that can happen when a woman becomes the old lady of the president of SAMCRO. And I want to create scenes and moments, everyday that were not seen in the series (Christmas, birthdays, ceremonies ... all that excites me!) for that reason, not everything it's gonna be canon with the show._**

 ** _I intend it to be a long, funny and romantic story ... English is not my mother tongue, I am Spanish, so I have to go writing and translating according to my limited abilities ... please, I appreciate comments to be able improve, and I will try to do it little by little._**

 ** _Without another word, I leave the first chapter! Thank you for reading._**

 ** _Disclaimer: Only my OC and other invented characters belong to me, the rest are the work of the creator of the series SONS OF ANARCHY, Kurt Sutter, as well as all the rights and profits that may come from them. I write nonprofit, with respect and admiration for the show._**

* * *

 _ **1**_

 _ **It's ain't easy been a queen**_

 _OC Point of View_

It's amazing how long an hour can be. And how slow the seconds can go by when you look at the hands of the clock sitting in an uncomfortable office chair with nothing else to do, except to get increasingly tense and nervous.

The man in front of me, fat, almost bald and with a double chin not recommended to wear a tie as tight as the one he wore that morning, wiped the sweat from his forehead every few minutes, and consulted the wall clock almost with as much anxiety as me.

Although of course, not for the same reasons.

I cast a longing look at the two pairs of unsigned documents resting on the table and then, I turned my gaze to the gold plaque with the words MARRIAGE LAWYER engraved on it. He also worked as a counselor for couples in crisis, but no relationship that he had tried had been saved. Although it is not that I had tried. All I wanted was to turn the page and clean things up, but it was very difficult when one of the parts even refused to make an appearance.

I stifled a grunt and changed the cross leg. I kept my back straight and my shoulders raised. I looked at the clock again. Ten minutes before the appointment was over and the continuous ticking seemed to make fun of my attempts to give a quick and sharp end to that unpleasant situation.

—Mrs. Teller...

I raised my index finger before the man could continue talking. I knew what he was going to tell me. He was going to repeat the same words that he had released me in the previous appointment, thirty days ago. Words that I did not want to hear. Words, I was not willing to accept.

I had been the weak part of that relationship for long enough, and I had let others dictate the rules to follow, but that was over. Now I would make the decisions. Now I would be in charge of saying when the game was over.

—Five minutes more. —I said, with a smile that tensed every muscle in my face. I had put on that ridiculous set of skirt and jacket and could barely move, but I thought it would make a better impression than jeans. —My future ex-husband is a busy man.

—I am, too, Mrs. Teller. And I have another appointment that should already be waiting in the hall.

I turned the body and the chair squeaked unpleasantly, rested my hands on the table, touching with the tips of the fingers unsigned papers. I saw my name written on the bottom, next to his. How many copies did I send to him in the last six months? Damn it ... why did he have to make it so hard?

—I'm sure, Mr. Murray, that your occupations are very important, but my future ex-husband usually has a tight schedule and it is difficult to locate him.

—Then maybe you should get him a copy of these divorce documents through his own lawyer.

I smiled The bastard did not know how to kick me out of his office, that was obvious, but I was not going to give up.

—I've already done it, Mr. Murray. On multiple occasions, but I'm afraid the postal company has a plot against me and makes those copies never arrive... so I beg you five more minutes, and maybe, you could prepare another citation to get my future ex-husband to appear here at last. —I made a smile that he did not return. —Do you need me to tell you his full name again? It's Jackson...

Murray grimaced. He was sweating so much that there were big wet fences in his dark shirt and when he breathed, he was breathing like a pig. Fear seemed to reflect on his swollen face when he denied strongly.

—All ... —He cleared his throat. —All the town knows the full name of your husband, Mrs. Teller. And his ... occupations. As I said, the time of our appointment has ended, so if you were so kind to ...

—It's ex-husband, Mr. Murray. That's why we're here, remember?

—Well... you're still married, right? And if you allow me an advice, taking into account the... evidence... —the man leaned forward, took the copies of the papers and proceeded to collect them with alacrity. —All marriages have problems, Mrs. Teller. And it is not the work of third parties to solve those problems, but it is the work of the husband and the wife, do you understand it? I ... I strongly advise you to go home, sit with your husband and try ...

—Oh, for God's sake, Murray! Are you so scared that you are unable to do your damn job?

—My job is not separating couples, Mrs. Teller.

—You're a damn marriage counselor! You are the one who gives the useless talk when there is nothing to fix and then proceeds to set the parameters of the divorce!

I clenched my fists and stood up. My height and appearance were not intimidating, but of course, that poor bastard must see a tacit threat in me because as I got up, he seemed to shrink. He was pale, almost livid, and kept looking at the door, almost as if he expected death itself to cross the threshold of his office once and for all.

Although I was not in the mood, I almost wanted to smile.

—Relax Murray, Jax will not come. The man swallowed hard. My God... was there anyone in that damned town who did not flinch when he heard his name? Which, of course, included me. I tried to sound firm. —I have every intention of dissolving my marriage to Mr. Teller, Murray, so I will need two more copies of those forms.

Resigned, he took out the papers again.

—And what... what do you want me to reflect on the reason for the dissolution, Mrs. Teller?

I bit my lip hard. Oh, I had so many reasons, so many reasons ... any judge would not only give me a divorce, but a medal for the demonstrated resistance.

—Irreconcilable differences. I pointed, raising my eyebrow to register Murray that he was not going to get one more piece of information.

—Well ... that's a bit vague, Mrs. Teller. Perhaps, if you were more specific, we could do something to get these documents to your husband and force him to present himself in a... let's say more... legal manner.

—It will be enough with the usual citation so that it appears to our next meeting.

The little eyes of the man sparkled for a second. Apparently, the irrational fear he felt dissipated a bit if he could manage to unearth some old skeleton hidden in the closet. My head, accustomed to that type of conjecture, made quick calculations and came to the conclusion that perhaps my marital problems had come somewhat further than expected. Maybe Murray had commented on it somewhere and maybe ... some county cop or sheriff had shown interest in paying attention to what we were talking about in our failed appointments.

—If you could give us some key information about those ... irreconcilable differences that you clearly can not bear anymore, Mrs. Teller ... —the man corroborated my suspicions with that dirty invitation. My stomach churned. —I'm sure we can help you.

I moved closer, resting both hands on the table and Murray almost trembled with emotion. Damn bastard ... one thing was that I wanted to separate from Jax, and quite another to want to hurt the man whose name I still bore. I never would do this. I was not a snitch and I would never be.

—If by key fact you mean that my husband is unable to pick up his clothes from the floor when he takes a shower, Mr. Murray, then you are right. And that, of course, is an irreconcilable difference for me. Any other information you hope to achieve, you will have to ask yourself in person.

As I expected, he turned pale.

—Going to ... are you going to tell him that ...?

—Oh, I'm sure he'll find out for himself, Mr. Murray. He always does.

I grabbed the bag with fury, hanging on my shoulder with a strong pull. The man, who seemed a little calmer when he finally came out of his sight, gave me a gesture that I could not interpret ... as if of grief and a certain fear at the same time.

—It would be safer for you, Mrs. Teller, to try to fix things. And he pursed his lips, as if his advice was saving my life. —It is not easy to be the queen, but you chose it.

—You sound as the same as my mother-in-law. Good morning, Mr. Murray.

I grabbed the copies of the divorce documents and left the office stepping hard on my heels. To say that I was disappointed fell short. For some reason ... something inside me had told me that that day would be the definitive one, that I would be able to reach an agreement and leave the office as a woman in the process of divorce. I did not expect to recover my life from one day to the next, I was not even sure what to do in the future, but to continue waiting for the time to pass without moving a file was not an option for me.

And I did not understand that Jax wanted to continue doing it. He had always been a man of action, determined and too impetuous for his own welfare. However, with all the situation of our separation he had closed in band and was completely refused to give me reasons for it. And he did not want to give me his damn signature on paper either.

After almost six months living apart, when I announced my intention to legally separate, he had smiled, turned around and had not spoken a single word about it. I rejected the documents when I sent them. He refused to talk about the subject the few times he had been able to face it and, of course, he refused to attend the lawyer's office so that the situation could be normalized as soon as possible.

He just went on with his life, waiting for who knew that, while I, still installed in the house I had shared, I struggled between rage and pity for broken things that could no longer be fixed.

At times like that, with the two copies of the request for nullity in the passenger seat of my car, anger overflowed. I hit the wheel and accelerated to get away as soon as possible from that part of town, desperate to get home and maybe break or burn some things to relieve me for having been mocked again.

—You will not get rid of me Jackson ... you can not hide. There is no place in this town where you can go unnoticed.

I started driving, and in less than five minutes I heard the unmistakable sound of the Harley right behind me. I looked in the rearview mirror just in time to see it zigzag until it was close to the side of my car. I sharpened my eyes, hoping to meet some of the familiar silhouettes of the members of the club, but my surprise was great when I realized that it was not one of them who was escorting me from my useless visit to the matrimonial lawyer.

Jax in person was driving next to me, approaching and greeting me with a gesture of the chin while keeping his two hands firmly attached to the handlebars of the bike. I pressed my lips and accelerated, but it would not matter what maneuvers I tried to do, he would continue close, until I took the detour that took me to what was still our home.

I did not understand if he did it as a show of power, or as an act of moldy chivalry. I also did not understand what I was making from that, to be crouched while I was waiting for him at the meeting, appearing only when his point had become clear.

He was not willing to accept the divorce, and he made it very clear that I was still his wife with that noisy reminder in the form of persecution. All Charming knew his motorcycle and also my car. His message would be clear to everyone who had eyes and ears: the president of SAMCRO escorted his wife back home.

I tried not to look at him through the mirrors all the way, though I failed more than once. When I took the detour and drove through the gravel drive towards the house, he went on for a few meters and then stopped long enough to see me get out of the car and lash the door with rage. He denied, his face framed by his helmet and black sunglasses.

That his image was so familiar to me bothered me. And to miss seeing him park his bike at the entrance of the house hurt me.

—You know? It's a good thing you're married to a mechanic. You drive like crazy. —He said, lifting his foot off the gravel, ready to go where he had come from.

—Fuck you, Jax.

Then he laughed and pulled one hand away from the handlebars of the motorbike. He was not wearing gloves, but he did have his wedding ring on.

—You are my wife. That's your job. You'd better take it back, maybe that would make you softer. -The Harley's engine roared loudly —Stop with that divorce shit. I'm not going to do it.

I took a couple of steps towards him, but he accelerated and he lost sight of me leaving me standing where he was, with a lot of accusations that I had to swallow. As I watched her silhouette grow smaller, I had the strange feeling that it mattered little what I tried to do... somehow I knew I would never be free from that man.

And although a part of me, dark and hidden inside me, was glad for it, I ignored it fiercely. I was not going to give up. No matter how stubborn he was... I was too and I am not going to let him win.


	2. Husband and wife for life

**_Wow! Thank you very much for the welcome the story is having!_**

 ** _I do not think I can post as often as these two chapters, but I'm so excited about the comments, the favorites and the followers that I worked on today._**

 ** _As I said, English is not my native language, but I am striving to make the expressions and ways of speaking of the show as perfect as possible. I want to make the characters recognizable, I hope to get it!_**

 ** _I am very happy that this story likes, I have many plans ... for Jax and my OC. For me it is important her relationship with the MC, and the fact that the feelings that exist between her and Jax are established. He is an adult man, he knows what he wants and he wants her. But, you know, is Jax, so... not so soft!_**

 ** _She loves the club and all its members, and she loves her husband ... let's see if they manage to fix things!_**

 ** _Thanks for your comments, please leave more and continue reading!_**

* * *

 _ **2**_

 _ **Husband and wife for life**_

 _Jax Point of View_

The wind helped to eliminate the sound of my own thoughts. It had always been like this. One of the many blessings of riding a motorcycle was the silence that loomed around you. It didn't matter that you were with fifty brothers in a race, or the traffic that circulated on the asphalt around you, while you rode and accelerated, engulfing every curve and turn of the road, there was only you, the engine revolutionized and thousands of kilometers ahead.

Of course, it wasn't a lasting peace and the noise in my head threatened to rise above the noise of the machine I was driving, but over the months, I had become accustomed to dealing with it. The feeling of constant danger. The constant stress. The constant dirt, all came with the new patch that adorned my cut, and although I wanted and deeply respected each of the letters that composed it, at times like that I felt the weight on my shoulders like a stone that threatened to sink me in a place dark from which I could not escape.

I turned to the right, driving from memory while in my mind the few words I had shared with my wife a few minutes ago were repeated. To my regret, I had to sketch a sad smile, as I entered the back line to leave the motorcycle lined up next to the others. A month ago, she would have just cursed me or turned around to not look me in the face.

We had shouted. And the situation was so desperate, and I felt so pathetic and anxious for a single gesture from her that I saw that as a breakthrough.

Sad, right? Well... this was my fucking life.

—Hey, Jackie boy! -Chibs signaled to me. The clubhouse had the door open and some of the brothers went out for it, dropping on the picnic benches while they waited. I unbuckled my helmet, left it hanging from the bike and slowly approached, looking for the cigars in the inside pocket of the cut. —How was the meeting?

I smoked before answering. I turned my shoulders around, I noticed the well-known tension biting my muscles. The fucking couch in the clubhouse office was going to shatter me if I kept trying to spend the nights in it. I missed my damn bed.

—Pretty good. -I answered, sitting at the table next to Chibs, who looked at me questioningly. —I'm still married.

The Scotsman made a sound that I decided to interpret as a kind laugh. My domestic problems were not public knowledge, but I shared with those men something more than a patch and a lot of incredible stories. They were family. My brothers, and they deserved to know how things were going.

—Did you appear this time?

I denied, exhaling the air through my nose and observing how it was lost on the horizon.

—It doesn't make sense to do it. We are going to solve it. All this is just a misunderstanding between my old lady and me, and those things are arranged behind closed doors and without clothes. This is how marriages are fixed

Chibs took my cigar and took a drag. His face did not reflect much, but I had known him for many years and could imagine what he was thinking.

—You're holding on, kid.

—Of course I do. She is my wife and I am her husband. -I dictated standing up. I didn't want to keep talking about that. I was in a bad mood, missed my fucking bed and my damn wife, but I didn't think to open my heart and show myself vulnerable, because that would force me to accept a reality I wasn't willing to see. —While one of us is not cold and underground, that's how it will be. She can be piss all the time she wants, I'm a patient man.

I threw the butt aside and put my hands in my pockets. That morning I had tried to take off my wedding band, but I had not been able. It would be the same as trying to remove one of the other rings, or going outside without wearing my club badges. Something similar to going naked while everyone was carrying things that identified them as people. That alliance reaffirmed my beliefs and opinions. It made me stay strong when the damn lawyer's papers came back or when I heard from the same mouth that had told me so many times 'I love you' the words 'separation'.

I wasn't going to give up because, simply, that was not my way of thinking. The woman I had married was the definitive one for me. The only one with I saw myself during the hypothetical time that reaper delayed in claiming me. She was someone I did not want to let go.

I had screwed up. I assumed my share of guilt. But that did not mean that I was going to break with everything we had built. I was a man with the firm belief that everything in this life could be repaired if you spent enough time and effort.

And that woman, my woman, deserved all my time and effort.

—What's up boss? -Happy greeted me from the other side of the bar as soon as I entered the clubhouse.

—Living the american dream.

I declined the beer he offered me with a nod and smiled at the huge figure that lay hunched at the end of the bar, on the stool that Piney Winston had once occupied. My hand rested on the sturdy shoulder of Demian, the newly patched nomad for Redwood who had joined us just two months before.

The man, who wore his abundant hair in a thick Viking braid, bowed his head and stood up, wrapping me in his arms tightly. We hit each other's backs.

—How did things go for Reno, brother?

Demian denied and that accentuated the headache that had begun to hammer me since dawn. I would have liked to say that I felt all the discomfort going through my body as soon as I woke up, but the truth was that I barely slept since I couldn't do it at home. The nights for me were a succession of thoughts without connection, looks to the ceiling and sighs.

Rage. Anger. Lament. And sorry for myself. Withstanding the temptation to pave my own house and end all that separation shit in the only way I knew, was getting harder and harder.

I forced myself to turn my attention to Demian.

—I was followed to the border, press. There were four. They ride from a distance and then they scattered. They didn't enter the territory, but during all the time I was doing the inquiries that you asked me, Jax... someone was very aware of each of my movements.

—Mayans? -Demian shrugged at my guess. It was not crazy... but we couldn't be sure. —I told you not to be alone, you should have taken Happy with you.

—I'm your sergeant in arms, boss. My place is where you are. Protecting you is my first job.

—And I appreciate that fidelity, brother, but Demian was nomad during all the years in which you didn't answer at any charter. The open road was your chapel, he could have needed you.

—I managed. -The huge Demian finished his beer in one gulp, downplaying the whole thing. —But I'm worried about the situation, Jax. I'm pretty sure no biker followed me here, but while we're in Charming we can not know what they're finding out in Reno.

Yeah… that made sense. My efforts to take SAMCRO through the lucrative but legal way were to ask for opinions, votes and commercial unions. I had sent Demian to Reno to test the situation with our brothers in Nevada. I had the intention of expanding the letter, of inviting partners and finding an advantageous location for all those involved, so that we could have a legitimate market and a clean and constant entrance of money, like the flow of a river.

As less charters of Sons would have done illegal business, the easier it would be to start moving under the federal radar. Things would start to go better, there would be less danger, less prison and less threats.

And hopefully, I could start to keep some of the fucking promises I had made when I got married. For example, don't die young.

—The answer in Nevada was positive? -Demian nodded. I searched inside my jacket until I found the package of cigarettes again. —Then it's time to go in person. There are many unpatched brothers who might want to join our project. We should do it as soon as possible. Tomorrow, at dawn.

Happy's hoarse voice sounds as he crossed the bar to stand next to me. He crossed his arms.

—If Demian says they followed him, they'll follow you too, boss. It's a risk. Big one.

I smiled at him. Happy's bloodthirsty concern was almost tender. Almost. I knew well that under his cut he was armed to the teeth.

—Why is a president with a foot in the divorce suspicious to drive to Reno in search of a little comfort and affection?

The two looked at me intrigued.

—That's all? Are you going to look for some whore? -Happy scratched his head. He did not usually contradict me, but on that occasion, the words seemed to escape from his mouth. —I don't know if that's very smart, boss.

I laughed. No. Probably it wasn't. My old lady wasn't too tall and her complexion was rather small, but that didn't mean she didn't impose respect with only one of her looks. Also, part of what made her so perfect for me was that she felt real appreciation and respect for the club. Unlike many others, she saw beyond patches, guns and violence. She was able to appreciate men, know their lives, their names, their problems, dreams and occupations.

She had taken the time to listen to the stories of JT's times, she had attended weddings and births, and she had engaged sincere and honest conversations with all the brothers who sat at my table. They had been in my house, they had taken care of her and she, in return, had given them a piece of her heart.

I loved her for many reasons, but one of the most important, is that as worried as she was for me whenever I ventured into a career, she felt the same kind of attachment for my family of choice. That she appreciated the club and had embraced him before being with me had been the definitive sign that we were both made to be together.

—I don't think so either, Jax. Shit... I do not believe it at all. -Demian scratched his forehead, probably remembering when my old lady and he had met, just after a break in which he, still wearing his nomadic patch, had started a small fight that had ended with several wounded. Included me. My wife had asked him very seriously if he was okay and afterwards, she had punched him for starting something that had ended with my face covered in blood. Was hot as hell. After that, they became friends forever. —What you will find there you can have it anywhere, but what awaits you at home…

—I'm not going to ride to Nevada to find a women. I already one. -or at least... something like that. —My intention is to fix things in my home, not bury them.

I do a sign for Chibs and Tig to approach. I want to travel with a couple of brothers, something on a small scale and to probe the matter of the supposed Mayans who had been watching Demian. If I had to spread the word that I visited the city for pleasure, I could do it and nobody would be surprised, after all, it was not a secret to anyone who had been sleeping in the clubhouse for almost six months.

—We'll go under radar, just a couple of men. With me, Happy and Demian, so he can identify those aspiring journalists who have been following in his footsteps. I want to know if the rest of the nomads would join us, with the new terms of doing business that we have voted for.

—And what about the delivery of guns that we had ready for the day after tomorrow, Jackie? We cannot postpone it.

Chibs was right. The cash inflow was vital at that time. We needed the money if we aspired to other companies, and to be able to get out of everything that was illegal, even if it was small steps, it was important stay cool with any of our current partners.

—Tig and you can take charge. Take Rat if you need it. Let Bobby stay at the head of the table until I come back, hopefully he will only have to make sure that the gavel doesn't pick up dust in my absence.

I decided to end that meeting. Needed to clear my head and let the ideas cool down. I wanted to review a contract that I planned to deliver to the distinguished mayor of the city, and that would be the first step to, I hoped, finding better companies in the immediate future.

—Do you want us to keep watch in your house, boss?

I looked over my shoulder at Tig, turning in the hallway to the old room that had now become my office. My head said yes before I can take any time to think about it.

—I'll be in peace if I know someone takes care of my wife while I'm away. Not a new prospect, I'd rather have someone she knows.

It would be easier if the person who cared for her was someone she already cared about. Or so I expected.

—What if we see some guy hanging around?

Although Tig's tone pretended to sound casual, it wasn't funny for me. Turned around and looked at him seriously, taking my hand to the knife that hung from my jeans. That was an option he didn't even want to think about. For the sake of my mental health.

—Then do what I would do. -I declared, pulling the door handle and losing myself inside the office.

—Shoot to kill. -Happy said from outside, with a terryfing smile.

It was still night when we left the parking of the clubhouse. I didn't to spend many days out of town, but as always when we hit the road, we did it by taking the van with us. While I was getting ready, putting on my gloves and fixing my helmet, I received the recommendations and good thoughts from my mother, who, as usual, had jumped out of bed to wish us a good trip. Although her role as queen had faded a bit after I took over the chair and married, she was still acting as such. Maybe because, Gemma Teller didn't know how to be anything other than a club wife.

—Be safe baby. —She said, kissing me.

I smiled at my mom, assuring her that I had no intention of allowing anything to stop me from returning home in one piece. I ignored the bitter feeling I felt in my guts, the one that had not let me find rest during the night and I told myself that it was just nostalgia. I missed my girl. His mouth covering mine. Her eyes were still touched by the dream while she watched me leave, missing me when I hadn't yet left. I wanted my wife to act like my wife, but for the moment, I couldn't have it.

I shook my head. We expected a long route ahead and it should be centered. Demian and I preceded the march with the motorcycles and Happy followed us, without doing too much honor to his name to be imprisoned in the cage for the entire trip. He had lost a bet with Damien and that had been the result, but the Tacoma killer was not a man who accepted things easily.

We leave behind the TM and the entrance of the SAMCRO clubhouse. I could hear, before the familiar sound of the Harley overcame the rest as Rat closed the doors, leaving the club safe in our absence.

As the sun was not quite out, I was wearing my night vision KD's, slightly fogged by the cold of dawn. Even with the gloves, the sweater and the cut, the sharp air was still felt, clearing me of a night in which I had hardly slept and alerting my senses for the hours of road that still had ahead.

—I need to make a final check. -said to Demian taking advantage of a red light in which we had stopped. He just nodded. —It will not be long.

I accelerated up the driveway to my house and stood in front of the dark porch. I looked at the bedroom window for a few seconds. The curtains were drawn, but it was easy for me to imagine my wife wrapped in the sheets, sound asleep, devising new ways to try to get me to sign something that would take her away from me forever.

Smiled a little. I hoped she knew me enough to give up soon.

—See you soon, darlin'. -I whispered to no one in particular, restarting the bike and heading out onto the road, where Demian and Happy joined me.

The feeling inside me grew stronger and my hands, which were firmly holding the handlebars of the bike, shook me a little. I felt the blood running through my veins with strength and my heart pounding against my ribs with violence. I pressed my lips, staring at the road.

I refused to be a divorced man. I wanted my wife to remain my wife, but as we were speeding through the deserted street, leaving behind the welcome sign for Charming, I asked myself if that persistent feeling would not be a warning that something bad was about to happen.

Maybe I did not have to sign any divorce after all... maybe with that career, I ended up giving my old lady the role of a widow earlier than expected. The risk, after all, was always there.


	3. Mama knows best

**_I'm back!_**

 ** _I am so grateful for the follow-up and the comments, really, I try very hard to make this story good and all of you like it. Some comments, I don't know why, not appear in the reviews section, but I see all of them in my email account. Infinite thanks for taking a minut for that. I hope you continue to reviewing and reading and following this story. It's hard to translate but, I think it's looking good._**

 ** _So... new chpter! I am very proud of this one because... well, I love Gemma! and I think she knows very well what she's talking about... soon there will be a big romantic moment. We'll see what happens. Let me know what you are thinking!_**

 ** _Many thanks._**

* * *

 _ **3**_

 _ **Mama knows best**_

 _OC Point of View_

It was a really hard night.

Although I tried to fall asleep, the only thing I could get was a good dose of nightmares and grotesque scenes that kept repeating in my mind again and again without being able to stop them.

I saw Jax and me on our wedding day, as clear as the dawn. He smiled and I began to recite our vows ... but then, a flash of lightning silenced my voice and his face turned white. Jax's chest began to flow blood, which spilled through his body to create a puddle on the floor. I tried but couldn't stop it. The red liquid soaked his cut and my dress and in the end, he lost his strength and fell to the floor, panting and begging.

 _"Don't let me die. Don't let me die"_

I had opened my eyes between tremors and nausea and I hadn't been able to continue sleeping. So there I was, at noon, stirring a dark coffee that I wasn't sure I could swallow. My head ached, my temples throbbed and I felt... a sensation... a strange feeling of fear.

It was silly. The dreams were just that ... they did not have to reflect anything, right? There was nothing to interpret.

I had barely sat at the table when the front door opened with a screech. I heard the unmistakable sound of Gemma's heels, and only a second later I saw her smile in front of me. She was wearing dark jeans, high shoes and a tight body with embroidery on the sleeves and chest. She was perfect, unlike me. My appearance was a mess, I knew it.

—Morning baby-girl. -I heard her telling me while she walked through the kitchen to pour herself a coffee. I nodded as greeting.

—Have you ever considered knocking on the door?

Gemma gave me a smile, showing the small silver object between her fingers.

—Why? You gave me a key for emergencies.

—And where is the fire? -In the end, I gave in to the love I felt for her. After all, arguing with my mother-in-law had the same effect as preaching in the desert, so I gave up.

I got up slowly and kissed her on the cheek. She put her arms around me, and for a second, I wished the gesture would last forever.

I suppose nobody knows how much needs the comfort of another human being until they offer it to him.

—Jesus Christ, you're frozen. Is everything alright?

My response was a grimace, and I throw the rest of the coffee in the sink.

—Life is perfect.

—I see... -Gemma swept the kitchen with her hawk's eye, stopping at the dishes I had washed the night before. She pointed to a long fork trencher and made a very bad gesture. —What the hell is that? Are you going to advance the Thanksgiving dinner this year?

—It's for... -I made a sign, as if stabbing something. Gemma was horrified and that seemed funny to me. It was ironic that something could impact her considering the kind of life she had. That both, we had. —I thought I heard something under the house, a big rodent. Or a raccoon. I just wanted... you know, chase him away.

—For that, sweetheart, God invented husbands.

I rolled my eyes.

—I was wondering when you would bring up the subject.

Gemma sipped coffee and sat in the chair I had been occupying, quiet and cool, as if she had all the time in the world to make her point clear.

—Listen, baby, I don't want to sound like the typical mother-in-law able to interfere...

—Really?

—But, I am worried. -Gemma keep going, without my cynicism appearing to disturb her. —This is taking too long. You wanted to make your point clear, express that you had the situation controlled and that you were going to handle it your way. I think it's fine. I respect that. But honey, the months are passing... and a husband has to sleep at home. With his wife.

—Well, I don't want him in this house, Gemma. I do not.

She let out a laugh, finished the coffee and then had the nerve to entertain herself by tearing a small bun and bringing it to her mouth with great delicacy.

—Don't you? Let me see... that's his ashtray. You are wearing one of his T-shirts and even if you try to hide it in your back —I felt her satisfaction like a slap —I can see your wedding ring. What else? Oh, yeah! All that clean laundry? It seems a little big for you, sweetness.

—And what am I supposed to do? Leave his clothes dirty? -denied —Besides... I'll ask him to come take his things any day.

—Yeah, sure you will. -Gemma shook her hands and then stood up.

Slowly, she came up to me and stroked a lock of my hair. She looked at me with tenderness, with wisdom... and I was unable to keep my eyes on hers.

—You're suffering and he's suffering too. You love him, and he loves you too. Why don't you both leave all this nonsense behind? You're not children anymore.

—I cannot, Gemma. I just... I... -Hurts. Admitting that meant for me to remember everything that had happened and the wound had not finished closing. —Jax lied to me. He looked me in the eye and he lied to me. He swore he would never hide anything from me and I trusted his word blindly, Gemma.

—And you can't forgive him yet. I get it. He has earned your anger and he is going to have to learn how to deal with break to promise means, but things don't work that way in our world, baby-girl. Jax makes a mistake, you make him pay. There are no privileges. No sex. No hugs in bed. He hurts you, you make him regret. -With her hand, Gemma pointed to the corridor that led to the rooms of the house. —But here, sweetheart. He's the president of the club and has an image of stability to show. You're his queen, that doesn't always bring good things, sometimes it's just responsibility. Sometimes, you have to make sure that the damage that has already been done, doesn't turn into something worse.

That made me smile. The club and its rules... I understood them. I accepted them. And I knew where I was getting in the first time my lips touched Jax's skin. I did not intend to change who he was or force him to leave something that was part of himself. His heritage. Your own blood. Because that was the man I had fallen in love with. But what I could not stand ... was that he would have broken my confidence. That something we had talked about, an agreement that both of us had reached, would now be null and void because he, unilaterally, had decided so.

I'm supposed to be his partner. His damn old lady. I could understand anything Jax needed to do, as long as it didn't keep me blind about it. Leaving me aside was the only thing I could not forgive. And that was exactly what he had done.

—What's that supposed to mean, Gemma? Do I have to forget my feelings, the betrayal, just to not push him to make more bad decisions?

—Jax is a man, sweetheart. And he's one of those who can't be without his family.

—Well, then he should have thought about it before.

Gemma sighed. He lit a cigarette and smoked in silence for a few seconds. She was far from satisfied with the direction the conversation had taken and was going to keep insisting. I knew it. I knew her well. I had learned to love and appreciate her as she was, and I want to think that she did the same with me. There were not a few stories about how Gemma Teller-Morrow alone was able to chase away the strongest of women if she considered them unworthy of the heart of her only son.

Apparently I was fit for the position. Although at that moment, angry and with that disturbing sensation going through me inside, I could not tell if that was a good thing.

—Listen to me, baby-girl. I have been married to two men who have run this club. I know how things work. John was a good man, loving and attentive, but when the pressure was too strong he found ways to alleviate it, and it was far away from here.

—So, should I forgive Jax and make everything go back to the way it used to be just to keep him from ending up in bed with any other woman?

God knows he could. Without any effort. The idea turn my stomach down, because suddenly that possibility became very real.

—Jax wants you deeply. And I know that because he has been locked up in the clubhouse office for almost six months with no more female contact than me. -Gemma's gaze cooled. —He has been faithful to you, and I think he will continue to be, but you're tightening the rope too much. You must give him something, something so that he understands that his efforts are on the right track.

—I'll not lose my pride, Gemma. I can't. I don't want.

—And you prefer to lose your husband? Is that what you want? C'mon, answer me! is that what you want?

—No, Gemma, of course not! I don't want to lose him! I love Jax! I want him.

I hit the table, emotionally and physically exhausted. I had not slept, I was afraid of my own feelings and I did not know how to deal with them. Jax was something that could not be overcome. Someone impossible to forget... someone I did not want to give up But for the moment ... I needed time and space to think. To forgive. And, above all, to understand.

—That's a good thing, honey. It's the only thing that really matters.

—I'm still mad at him, Gemma. Very.

—That's good too. -She smiled at me, winking at me. —Those bikers Boys are used to being so hard and strong that sometimes they forget who has the real power. Are you angry? Well, punish him. Teach him that he can not disrespect you in that way. Deny him the heat he wants most... but bring him home, baby. I'm telling you seriously. Bring your husband back to your house and put him in your bed. Then you will have time to decide when he can take you.

Gemma raised her eyebrows and I was very clear what she meant. I blushed with shame. There were still issues with which I did not feel comfortable talking to her... and the sexual life that I shared-or not, in the last six months-with her son was one of those taboos that she was unable to respect.

I tried desperately to change the subject.

—It's not that I don't appreciate your lessons and your visits Gemma, because I really do, but... why are you here?

—Just came to take a look, you know ... guys out of town, girls have to support each other. -She must have noticed in my expression that I had no idea what she was talking about, because cleared her throat and proceeded to explain herself. —You see? That's why you need your man under that roof. You have the right to full disclosure. You don't know where Jax is, right?

I shrugged.

—Making a spot for expensive underwear?

She smiled.

—Well, he could do it, doesn't he?

Oh my God. So disgusting.

—Jesus Christ, Gemma. He's your son.

—Yeah, he is. And right now he's in Nevada for club business. -Gemma told me, leaving her bag hanging from one of the chairs, because apparently, the visit was going to continue. —There were problems in Demian's visit and Jax decided to go straight to them.

Nevada... I savored the words, letting the bitter aftertaste take over me. The biggest and most insistent whores, eager to hunt down a good member of the club were there, but that was not the main reason why I was worried. Gemma had said that Demian had encountered difficulties... and if his trip was not calm, who knows what we could expect to happen when the president of the charter was involved in the race?

—He's taken Happy with him?Gemma nodded. -Well... that's a good thing. Only the three of them? They go under radar then. A friendly visit Probably short, isn't it? They should go back to the village in a day or two.

—Call him, baby. You'll be calmer and make his trip sweeter.

But I denied. Stubborn. Headstrong. Spiteful.

—The least he needs right now are distractions. He must be focused to solve whatever has happened. That's what he would want.

—Everything Jax wants for all the other stuff go well, it's you. Think about it. -Gemma retrieved her purse, gave me another brief hug and then, walked towards the door, making her heels resonate on the tile floor. Before leaving, she looked at me once more, smiling. —You know what? Maybe the only thing you both need to fix all this is to stop thinking _only_ in you two.

I crossed my arms, and although I was afraid of the answer, I asked.

—What do you mean?

Gemma's smile was radiant.

—Let Jax knock you up. -and she put her index finger pointing towards my stomach. —A full belly strengthens a marriage. Trust me. Get pregnant.

My mother-in-law, delicate as a bazooka.

—Are you saying that seriously, Gemma? -It seemed incredible to me. Wasn't she the same one who told me, in a few words, to close my legs to Jax until I had "punished" him? Now she believed that the solution to all our problems was... a baby? Her facial expression said all the words. —My God, you are.

—I never joke when I am talking about my grandchildren. Think about it. And for God's sake, call my son. It's hard for a mother see how a grown man capable to do the things Jax does, whimpering around the corners for a woman who already belongs to him. -She opened her arms, kissed me on the forehead and then, walked away once more. —I'll see you soon baby-girl.

And after spitting her opinion, Gemma left without looking back.

I was left alone in the middle of the kitchen. Barefoot, wearing the navy blue T-shirt with the word SAMCRO engraved on the chest. I looked at my phone, which rested on the table, next to the cup that Gemma had used. I stretched my fingers ... but instead of the phone, I took the cup and took it to the sink. I started to wash it hard, trying to get rid of the nervousness inside me. I was worried. And nostalgic. I missed him, that was the truth, a truth too big to hide.

Would I be wasting precious time? A time that I would later regret having missed?

 _"Don't let me die. Don't let me die"_

—Dammit!

The cup had broken and one of the pieces had cut my finger. The blood flowed, mixing with the water in the sink, falling in the form of thick drops. The feeling of anguish was choking me and I felt like I couldn't breathe.

I need him. Badly.

—Jax... -I moaned, my heart clenched at the bottom of my chest.

I covered my bleeding hand and grabbed the phone firmly, dialed the number and waited... but he didn't answer.

Then, somehow, I knew. Something was going to happen. Something terrible.

The hell was opening under my feet.


	4. Until death do us part

**_So, here I am again!_**

 ** _I really am very involved in this story. I like how it is being, but I always try to be better._**

 ** _I like the romantic and passionate Jax, and I like that he and his wife can have tender moments when the shit hits them. I hope that his character and characterization please you. I accept any advice._**

 ** _I appreciate the reviews and follows. Like a lot._**

 ** _So, new chapter! This is a bit long and I have really enjoyed writing it. I hope you like it too!_**

 ** _Enjoy your week-eds everyone!_**

* * *

 _ **4**_

 _ **Until death do us part**_

 _Jax Point of View_

Guilt was a dangerous thing. A terrible thing.

When you survive an attack, you start to think about the decisions you have made, and you think maybe things would have been different if you had acted in a different way. For example, if I had pulled the bike to the left side of the road, and I would have fired my gun earlier, maybe the result of the massacre would have been another.

If I hadn't taken the time to look at my own cuts and scratches, my shots would have come faster and been more accurate. So, maybe Happy wouldn't have fallen off the bike and he would not have had to make the decision of which brother to help first. I don't know.

But maybe, if the bewilderment of being shot a few meters from Reno had lasted less, I could have reacted differently and then, perhaps, Demian would still alive.

It had been two hours of clearing the ground, lifting the bikes and assessing the damage. Something was bleeding under my shirt and blood had impregnated my skin. I felt pain in the back and knees because of the fall and the rage threatened to take over me. I needed to shoot something. I needed to scream and kill in order to relieve the tension that had taken over my body. But my personal feelings didn't matter.

Happy and I, put Demian's body in the van and made a couple of calls to TM. It was time to retreat, heal wounds and give explanations.

While I rode back home, smoking a cigarette and with my mind at a thousand revolutions, guilt made its way into my head, filling it with an unpleasant noise. It had been my call to travel to Nevada as soon as possible, in a small number, ignoring the warning of danger that Demian had told me. Me, arrogant, thought that my presence would be enough for the spies to be put aside, and instead of that... the results had ended in a very ugly shit.

The survivor's fault is a bad thing, especially if mixed with a selfish feeling of joy. Feeling good when danger appears in your face and you escape from it is inevitable. It was inevitable for me to feel good, because, although I still did not know, in a few hours I would have my wife pressed against my body, relieving my frustration and finally loving me.

My fallen brother and the sorrow for his death were going to turn into my ticket back into the arms of my old lady, and that supposed the peace and happiness that I so desired. What did that turn me into? What kind of president was I?

I was only a man. With guilt for having survived. With rage for saying goodbye. With hungry for the woman I love.

When we arrived at Charming, the sun had hidden. The doors of the clubhouse were open and a group of brothers and relatives were milling around waiting. I had made the call to Gemma to inform her of what they were going to find on our return, and I imagined, knowing my mother as I did, that she had taken it upon herself to warn everyone else.

When I checked my phone I found my wife's missed call, but I wasn't able to answer it. She appreciated Demian, as well as all the members of the club, and there were things she could not tell him on the phone. The words had stuck in my throat, and although I should have called to let her know that Happy and I were safe, I couldn't. Gemma should have told him. When I imagined how nervous and worried she was, somehow... it made me think that there was still hope for our marriage.

A madness, I know it. But I was a desperate man who had desperate thoughts.

Parking online, I got off the bike, noticing the pains in all my muscles. The sound of the shots still sounded in my ears and I felt I desperately needed a bottle of Jameson and twenty hours of sleep without nightmares

But the rest had to wait. There was a lot to do.

Bobby came up to me, putting his arms around me and giving me an evaluation look. I made a vague gesture. The visible marks of my body would be erased with time. The bruised ribs, the bleeding knee and the open eyebrow were nothing, compared to what happened with the brother who was lying inside the van.

—Happy? -Bobby asked, accompanying me inside the clubhouse.

—Skeeter's.

A nod was the answer. Our friend from the crematorium would prepare Demian. Afterwards, the body would be taken to the club and the next day, when the Sons of the other cities had time to ride to our town, to say goodbye

—Gemma told us everything. And I've already called Opie to the cabin. He'll be here in the morning.

—That is good. Thank's for taking charge.

Bobby's head just nodded.

—Shit Jax... shooters? A few meters from the fucking border? That's a serious shit, brother ... a very serious shit.

—I know. -and everything was on me. —Demian told me, he said he had been followed in his previous race to Nevada, but I didn't think they were waiting for us again. -I crossed the doors, receiving greetings and approaches from all my brothers, interested in me, in my health, and in what had happened. -Make the call to go so soon was a mistake, Bobby. Happy is hurt.

—And we know how he is. He must fired his bullets in the direction you were in, to protect your back. As soon as he's done with Skeeter, he'll drown his guilt in pussies and bourbon until he forgot his own name.

—I don't think any of us can forget what happened, brother. -I put my hand on his shoulder. The weight of the patch, once again, crushing my hopes of a different life. —A bad call from me that has ended with a fallen member.

—Thinking that shit is not going to help you, Jax. You couldn't know. You couldn't have reacted differently. Hell, you're a good shooter, but you only have two eyes and a gun. When death comes to us, we can only try to save ourselves. And you're our president.

—But my blood isn't worth more than any of you.

I know he would try to keep comforting me. Eventually everyone would tell me that nothing could have been done. The man who shot Demian gave him two fucking shots in the head and not even a miracle could have saved him. But I had made the decisions that had put his skull in danger, so, the responsibility of that split life fell on me.

And even if nothing could return my brother, I would take revenge.

I saw my wife appear among all those men. Her look in me, That way she walking, soft and delicate, approaching with slow but sure steps. We look each other in the eyes, quiet. She stretched out her hand and her little fingers brushed mine. It was barely a second, an unimportant gesture, but I felt it like the glass of water you give the man who has traveled a long desert. I breathed deeply, apologizing and lamenting without words. I wanted to run and touch her. I wanted... no, I needed to feel her close to me. Smell her hair, kiss her neck. I wanted her to tell me everything was going to be fine.

Because she was the only person to share my fears and insecurities, my real guilt, before whom I would undress, in my faults and sins. She was the only person in that room for whom the president didn't matter as much as the man.

—You're good? -She asked me, looking all the wounds, dirty clothes and my blond hair covered in blood. I nodded slowly.

—Something like that.

She let go of my hand and nodded toward the hallway. There were many men in the clubhouse. Everyone was waiting for me. Everyone wanted to talk to me. There was a meeting in the chapel organized for the same day, but nobody dared to interfere between my old lady and me. The world was falling apart, but she was going to be the first to have me. At that moment. And always.

—Can you give me a minute, Jax?

—I'll give you the rest of my life, babe.

Then, amazingly, she smiled.

—Look at you. That doesn't sound like a promise you can keep for a long time.

I followed her when she started walking. She guided, without touching me, to the office where I had been spending the nights. Once inside, she closed the door and gave a deep sigh. I knew her very well, I knew she was trying to handle her shit with a lot of effort. Demian was a dear brother. Happy was a dear brother. And I, even though I had made mistakes, was her damned husband yet.

Three people who occupied her heart had ended up bleeding. And one of them had not returned. My wife was a tough woman, but she was very close to breaking up.

—Listen, babe…

—Don't, Jax.

I saw her raise her hand. Her eyes were closed, and eyebrows furrowed. Her fingers trembled a little and she shook the head several times. When she looked at me, her expression was so sad that it broke my heart.

—Please don't say anything. -she begged to me. -Don't speak. I... I know what happened, Gemma told me, but right now I can't understand. I can't think about it, I'm not capable of assuming what all this will mean. The only thing I need now... the only thing I want, is a break.

Then I hardened my jaw, because it had also been a difficult day for me, and I could not take it anymore from that crap of separation. Not now.

—I think that six months have been more than enough. Look darlin', I can understand that you are suffering, but I am in pain too.

—I don't mean that, Jax. Forget it all. What I want to say is that I need a break... of the break. An impasse. -She pointed to both of us with his hand. Her eyes shone and the small body trembled. She seemed tense, but also full of that adrenaline that I knew so well, that class that flooded you when something bad happened and the nervousness of the moment begins to calm down. —This hasn't happened. This isn't going to count or matter. Ok? Nothing we're going to do or say here will change what has happened between us, Jax, but I really need it. I need to put that distance aside for a minute because I need... I really need to see you and feel you and believe you are here. I need to know you're okay, baby. Please.

Then I understood. And she finally broke. I took one step forward, and then another. Her little hands grabbed my cut and approached me with incredible strength for a woman of her size. Her back hit the wall, but we didn't realize. Her arms found the back of my neck and mine grabbed her by the waist until the air stopped circulating through our bodies. I squeezed her without kindness.

She doesn't cares.

—I'm here, babe. -I whispered. —I'm fine and rigth here. With you. For you. Take me.

She closed her eyes and my lips raped her mouth. It was a desperate kiss, rough and violent. I think bit her lip, but she didn't complain. I felt his fingers caressing my hair and then, naturally, my body became hard and ready. We're pure biology together, and after six months without tasting their taste, the sensations exploded around us and the whole room burned.

That felt so good... my girl and I, kissing with passion like teenagers in love. Both pressed against the wall with our lips making music. I was about to lose control. What happened began to dissolve in my memory and I didn't think of anything else, only she and me. Only our love, uncontrollable.

I placed the palm of my hand on the wall to find a point of balance. I don't feel my legs with the same strength as always and that pissed me off. I had waited a lot for that moment and I felt that I was about to spoil it. When my wife squeezed my waist, my mouth took off from her with a growl of pain that I could not hide.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

—Jax?

Her cold fingers took my cheeks. Her eyes looking for mine. I made a pathetic smile and tried to kiss her again. It didn't work

—Don't. What's going on? Are you feeling bad?

—I'm in the fucking paradise, babe. Promise.

—Stop making promises. -Her tone was serious. Authoritarian. Shit, she almost sounded like my mother, and that was never good. My reflexes were slow and I couldn't stop her from looking under my shirt. The expression contracted. Dammit. I was making her suffer. Again. —Take it off, Jax. Now.

I gave her a cocky smile.

—Yes ma'am. -I went out of my cut, and left it next to the office table. —Do you want some more kisses before moving on to the nude part?

She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.

—Don't be an asshole.

—Yeah, well... that's me. -raised my arms like a good boy when she stripped my chest. I already knew what I was going to find and I could only try to make everything less serious and difficult. —When the situation is really bad, babe, you keep busy to control the shit and I try to pretend that nothing matters so much. Is that how it works.

—Well, this time, it's not going to work. Jesus Christ!

My torso was covered in bruises. It had an open cut just below the right pectoral and the area of the ribs began to swell a lot. In the next few days my chest was going to look like a map of red and green colors. My wife looked at me and I understood that the moment of the jokes had passed.

—I've been worse love. You know. You've seen.

—But that doesn't mean I like it. Sit down, I'm going to clean up this mess and put some bandages on you.

—Don't bother. The boys are waiting for me in the chapel.

She gave me a cold look.

—If someone crosses that door before I am finished with you, I will shoot them. Sit down, _mr. pressident_.

Hot as the fucking hell.

—I love you.

She growled, approaching me with bandages and antiseptic to apply to my wounds.

—Yeah... I'm a lucky girl.

I laughed and put my fingers through his hair. She's so soft... she smells so damn good. I was a poor bastard in love.

—Yeah, darlin'. You are.

We remained silent for a few minutes. My wife fixed my battered body and although she was touching me just to keep the wounds from getting infected, feeling her hands on my skin woke up my senses. I couldn't stop looking at her. It was a very ugly moment but I was grateful to have her. She wrapped bandages around my torso to hold my ribs and that eased my pain. When she finished, grabbed a clean shirt from the closet and helped me put it on, then I walked to the bathroom and washed the blood on my face and used the water to fix my hair.

—What are you going to do now? -She asked, her body leaning against the bathroom door.

—Do you mean what am I going to do with the thing has caused this situation? The two of us almost getting laid? -I gave her a boastful smile, pointing at each other. -I'll send those shooters a basket of fruits and my best wishes.

—I want to really know, Jax. What will happen now?

I went back to the office slowly. I picked up my cut and passed it through my hands. I adjusted it well, appreciating the weight of the leather on my body. I looked at her seriously. We had the full disclosure and I already failed in many things as a husband, so I couldn't miss my word on that.

My wife always had the option of knowing everything. If she asked me, I was going to answer.

—That's why we have a chapel now, babe. We're going to make a decision on this, but it has to be something unanimous. A brother has died. The shooters were Mayans, of that, I'm sure, but I can't go to the war against Alvarez without having seen all the corners of the problem. -I wasn't going to act on my own again. —If my brothers agree, I will request a meeting with him.

—Do you think those guys may have acted without a direct order?

My head nodded.

—That's why I want to talk to Alvarez. From press to press, before more blood stains the streets. Later, when I'm sure who made the call that ended with Demian dead and Happy and I hurt, justice will be served. Either against those directly responsible, or against all that damn club.

She stayed quiet, I imagine that because she was trying to process what my words meant. I covered the scratch of the knee and then approached slowly and took her cold hand. Her pretty eyes fell on me and I was almost unable to resist the temptation to kiss her again.

—Listen babe... about what you said before, that break thing, I'm agree. In fact, I also want to ask you for one. I know there's a lot of shit between us, and I'm not a fool to expect you sweep it all under the carpet, but we're going to have to handle a couple of very complicated days, you understand?

—Funeral and burial. -I confirmed. Her lip trembled, but she could contain her emotions. —The ceremony is going to be here, in the clubhouse?

—Bobby and the others should already be contacting the brothers of other towns to come and say goodbye. Many men came to pay their respects. -put my hand on her hip. I was a greedy bastard, I would have all the contact I could get. —This is going to become crazy. And we should be more close than ever.

She touched my beard and nodded once.

—Ok baby. -She said to me, her voice was soft. —Come home when you finish. Your house will be waiting for you.

—And my wife? -I asked anxiously, my eyes fixed on her. —Will you be waiting for me too? Without reservations?

—Jackie-boy, we're at the table! —Chibs shouted from the other side of the door.

—A minute! -I refused to let go of her, although she made an attempt to answer the call. I kept it for another second, because I needed an answer. —All my brothers expect strength from me, and I will not be able to do this without you. I don't want. I'm going to need you these couple of days. Like my old lady. I'm going to need you tonight, babe, so I ask you again, will my wife be waiting for me?

And then, finally, she consented.

—I'll not leave your side, Jackson.

I felt like I could breathe again. I expected a hard meeting ahead, but those words put an end to the noise in my head and left me clear. I pulled her to me and we kiss, this time gently, slowly. Keeping its flavor.

—Jax, I…

—I know. —I smile at her, touching that lovely face. —I know.

After a few seconds, I opened the office door and the two of us went outside. The chapel was waiting with a large part of my brothers already seated in their chairs. Some still occupied places outside, drinking a beer or talking low, probably wondering about the steps we were going to take now. My girl and I walk side by side. I looked at her for a second, placing her hair behind her ear. She tried to offer me a smile, despite the sadness that marked her face.

—Don't go out without me. Wait until I'm finished and then we'll go home. -Her said yes with a gesture. —This shouldn't be long, but if you're bored, you can go to the TM and keep an eye on Lowell. He's fixing the scratches on my bike.

I leaned over and gave her a short kiss on the cheek, then I walked away, feeling the pain expand. I limped, but tried to keep a regular walk. My mother, who had remained in a corner, came over and touched my shoulder.

—You look good.

—This is how I was born. -answered, returning the love gesture she gave me. There was no humor in Gemma's face, because she felt the death of every member of the club as a loss of her own family.

—Yeah, I noticed. I was there. -She pointed back, where my wife was. —Speaking of giving birth, are you two going home together?

—Yes, but don't touch your victory drums yet, mom. It's a complicated situation. I don't want to be alone and I imagine that she doesn't either. This is just a truce for the moment.

—All right, baby. —Gemma patted my chest before pulling away. —The best babies are born for truces.

I rolled my eyes. Jesus Christ, I couldn't even be sure that my wife would let me sleep in bed with her and my mother was already making conception plans for that night. I suppose I couldn't blame her. After all, a dark part of me, had the same desire.

—Take it easy, _grandma_.

I saw her give me a very angry look

—Don't play with that word, Jackson.

I denied, and finally, left the black doors of the chapel behind me and crossed to the other side, where my club was waiting.

It was time for me to act like the damn head of that table.


	5. By the end of the day

**_I'm back!_**

 ** _I'm sorry have delayed, but I'll try to publish at least one chapter each week, I hope get it!_**

 ** _I like this one for many reasons. I like the playful Jax. I like OC trying to resist. Like love even though things are difficult. I like Gemma. I like home things and club life mixed with married life... and I think there's a bit of everything._**

 ** _As always, I try to make a good translation into English, try to make expressions, verbs and sentences look like characters... let me know if I'm on the right way._**

 ** _Thank you very much for all your comments, for following the story and for the encouragement, I didn't expect so much and I am very happy!_**

 ** _See you soon. Enjoy reading!_**

* * *

 _ **5**_

 _ **By the end of the day**_

 _OC Point of View_

When I was a teenager, and was in high school, my teachers asked me to do an essay about my aspirations in life.

I'm not going to lie. Didn't write that I wanted to be the wife of an outlaw, but the decisions I had made throughout my life had taken me to the place where I was now: sitting on Jax's bike, waiting for him at the clubhouse.

Despite the noise in my head, I looked up and began to count some stars that were seen in the sky. The night was clear in Charming, the temperature was nice, and the idea of a ride grabbed by Jax's waist through the streets in silence, with the sound of the Harley as background music, didn't seem unpleasant... but when everything happened, returned to my memory, my enthusiasm was flying away like the smoke of a cigarette.

I am in love with Jax. I had fallen almost from the first moment I had seen him. Our relationship had been friendly, we were good colleagues who little by little began to be attracted to each other. I knew the club and all its members, and loved them too. I suppose that made it so natural to start a romance with the Prince of Charming: I appreciated his world, accepted the order of things, therefore, I could be with him feeling happiness and freedom.

The moral compass rotated without stopping when the love was so great as to unbalance it. And there's a lot of love between Jax and me.

However, it was difficult for me to forget the problems that had kept us separated for the past six months. This was going to be the first night, after all that time, when Jax and I were going to share the bed again. I was nervous about what could happen... I was also worried about what the morning would bring.

I was afraid that the ugly reality of death, guns, prison and crimes would end with our great love. Then, the moral compass would remain quiet... and maybe the decisions we had made to be together, could now stop being correct.

—Look at that, the two things Jax enjoys most riding, put in together.

I rolled my eyes at Gemma, who was walking up to me in her high-heeled boots. She had the keys of her Cadillac in her hand. She smiled at me, gesturing to the bike where I had sat.

—Should I be offended because you considered me an object to ride?

—That depends, baby-girl. Would you feel offended that Jax will ride you as much as his strength allows him?

—Jesus Gemma, don't you realize that making such comments about your son and his intimate life is very disturbing?

She shook her head. Of course. My mother-in-law was not at all a delicate woman. She was not offended by anything. In fact, Gemma would have been very pleased if on our wedding night she had been allowed to have proof that Jackson and I were consummating the marriage.

—I'm very happy that finally things are going the right way between you two, honey. For real.

—I don't want you to have any illusions Gem, this is just...

—Yeah, I know... Jax has already told me that shit about the truce. I'm going to buy it for now, but you hear what I have to say: you and my son under the same roof, with a very close bed and after six months apart… -Gemma smiled, put the keys in her car and opened the door. —I'm going to sleep very quiet tonight, you on the other hand... I don't know if you can rest.

I think I blushed, which was stupid because Jax and I had been sleeping together long enough so that those comments did not affect me. I put my hand on the handlebar of the Harley and the noise of my head, came back again.

—I know what you're thinking. And you shouldn't do it. -Gemma got into his car and looked at me from the window. —Our life is not like anyone else's, but it's ours. It has bad things, shit, of course it has, but you know that is not the general rule. Today we have lost a member of our family, and tomorrow we will have to be united to say goodbye.

—I just... I would like to be able to extend my arms and protect all of them. Protect everything we love. Our people, our club, our guys... I don't want anything happen to anyone.

Gemma smiled at me.

—Running away is never your thought. That's why I love you. That's why Jax loves you and that's why, baby-girl, you're never going to divorce him. But you already know that, don't you?

She waved goodbye and then, the Cadillac moved away, leaving me in many thoughts without connection. I love Jax. I love the club. But I was afraid that things would get more and more dangerous for all of us.

I had already made many visits to the jail, and I didn'tlike the feeling of having to go home leaving loved ones behind the bars.

—Hi.

I turned around. Jax was approaching putting on his driving gloves. He had his night vision KD's and a serious expression on his face. He came over and kissed me on the forehead. I got up from the bike to give him space.

—Sorry made you wait, -he said, handing me my helmet. —The meeting has been hard.

—How has the voting been?

—Unanimous. Jax passed his leg over the motorcycle and kept the balance. I took a seat behind him, encircling his body with my arms. I leaned my forehead on his back and kissed the Reaper on his back. —Can I tell you later?

—Whenever you want.

Fastened my helmet and Jax did the same, turned on the light and acelerating the bike. I didn't have to ask him to know that we're going to take a detour towards home. We hadn't been riding together for a long time, being quiet, just one next to the other, clenched while we watched the streets go by at full speed.

I had miss that so much.

Jax stopped in a red light. His hand released the handlebars of the motorcycle and squeezed mine with affection. He told me out loud, apeaking over the sound of the engine.

—I couldn't go through tonight without you, babe.

—You don't have to do it. You have me here, with you.

Jax nodded, ready to finish the ride.

—I'll make sure to keep you very close to me.

I embraced him with all my strength, letting the warm of his body comfort me and shut up all the noise around me. I wanted to have this man with me, but first, I needed to know that he had understood the harm he had done to me. I needed him to commit to me not to repeat it again.

Jax took the bike down the driveway and slowed down. Afterwards, I got off and preceded the way home. I felt his steps behind me, his closeness behind me, his breathing, and the feeling was so familiar that I closed my eyes before opening the door, savoring the momento. Although things were not perfect, at least for a few hours, we would have each other to keeping hope.

One of the lights lit up the photograph that was on the table next to the door. Jax left his keys and both helmets and then, he smiled languidly, touching the frame of the image with his fingers. In the picture we were both. He still had his long blond hair and wore an orange prison suit. He was wrapping his arm around me and his chin was resting on my head. I smiled, tight against his body, but my eyes were sad.

—Why do you keep this one? -He asked me, looking at the picture in detail. —To not forget that you're married to a convict?

I looked at the photograph for a moment, remembering those hard fourteen months that Jax and I spent separately. Our relationship was strong at that time, I trusted him and wanted to live my life with him, but when he was imprisoned something in my heart broke. I was going to miss him, of that I had no doubts, but his first jail service being a couple was hard because it turned my fear of losing him into reality.

Later, he had come out with a new haircut, a couple of recent scars and an engagement ring for me. We threw ourselves into marriage like crazy lovers who didn't want to separate anymore. So it was.

Until he broke important promises.

—I keep it to remember that although things are a mess, I still love that fool convict.

—Hey! -Jax smiled at me, approaching. Put one arm on the wall and with the other he stroked my hair. It was very close and my skin began to tense. —I'm the president of the club, girl. Show me some respect.

—Oh yeah? -smiled back. —And if I not?

—I'll have to punish you very hard babe. -Jax bit his lip and then pointed down with his finger. —Get on your knees.

Raised my eyebrows, making him laugh even more. The sound was beautiful.

—Good try, Jackie-boy. -grabbed his cut and pulled. —Now take this off. Here, I'm the boss. You can take a shower if you want.

Saw him leave his cut on the hanger and start unbuttoning his flannel shirt.

—I would accept something for dinner... I think I don't eat anything since yesterday's beer and weed, just before everything happened... -the atmosphere became gloomy, but even though we had a big pink elephant in our living room, the death of our friend and a potential Mayan attack to take care of, neither Jax or I wanted to lose that bit of home sense that we had missed so much for six months. —By the way, darlin', only Chibs can call me Jackie-boy. I'm sorry but it's our thing. You can use any other name for me. "Love of my life" for example or "sexiest man in the world" something like that, simple and clear.

I raised my leg and tried to kick Jax in the ass but failed. I heard him laugh while going to the bathroom, dropping the clothes on the way. I rolled my eyes... well, my man was at home. Again.

Went to the kitchen and looked in the fridge. I didn't have the courage to prepare a big dinner, because we had to sleep and prepare for the new day. Any ceremony at the club required, but a funeral was something special. A goodbye to a patch required a lot of effort and dedication and I, like the old lady of the president of the main charter, was going to have a lot to do as soon as dawn came.

Wondered if Gemma had already talked to Demian's widow, or if I should. We would have to prepare the club, fill it with food, drink and cigarettes; organize beds for members who came from other counties. Almost everyone would spend the entire day in Charming, until the burial in the cemetery. Jax was going to have his plate full of work, meetings, greetings. Information and plans were going to run from ear to ear while the chapel was reserved to say goodbye and pay respects.

I started to make a big sandwich with all the vegetables I could handle and heated the pan to fry some pieces of bacon. It wouldn't be the healthiest dinner of all... but Jax often forgot to eat when he was working. He needed energy and had a full stomach for what was to come.

—Babe? -I heard him call me from the bathroom. —Can you help me with the bandages again? I cannot reattach myself alone.

I put out the fire and made my way to the bathroom while I was picking up Jax's used clothes. I entered with hard steps and threw it into the basket with an accusing look.

—Know what? You're not going to be less man or something to put your dirty underwear on... -I looked at him then. He was standing in front of me, his hair wet and his body full naked. The bathroom mirror showed me a wonderful picture of his tattooed back and firm ass. I swallowed, kept my eyes on his and reminded myself that we were separated. Separate people don't make love. Or any other intimate and no-clothes thing. —... on the basket. Seriously, it's not a great job. Surely you could do it.

—You can look at me if you want, babe. I'm your husband.

I denied and looked for some bandages in the closet. With a man like that at home, the first-aid kit was always well-stocked. I approached and began to cover his chest full of bruises. He had an arrogant smile on his face, he thought himself the most handsome guy in the universe.

—I have you very seen. You can't impress me anymore.

—Then why are your hands trembling?

—Because I'm tired. -I approached to tie him with bandages in the back. Damn... Jax smelled so good...

—Liar. -His fingers touched my chin. Looked at me as if he could drink me with his eyes. —You're shaking for me. Because you want to touch me more, and you want to kiss me more. And you want to fuck me as badly as I want to fuck you, babe. You know that. Because that's the truth.

—We're separated, Jax.

—That's bullshit. You're my old lady and this is our house. Who cares what we do?

—Me. -I gave him the clean underwear and a white sleeveless shirt. —I love you and you know it, but I'm not ready. Not yet.

—Let me undress you and take you to the bedroom and I'll make sure you're ready, babe. I promise. -He winked at me. Bastard cocky... —After six months I'll just have to put a finger on you to hear you moan. Oh boy... I really miss that sound in my ear.

—You want to go for a whole year, bad boy? -crossed my arms, but I didn't do it to look like a tough woman, but because Jax's words had shaken my body and I didn't want him to notice. Jumped, walking away when he tried to grab me. —Keep dreaming.

—In my dreams, there's only you.

He was good. I knew that. I was afraid of temptation, so I put distance between the two of us and went back to the kitchen. I finished frying the bacon and prepared the sandwiches. A few minutes later, Jax appeared and sat on the chair, smoking a cigarette.

I served him a shot of Jameson with the sandwich and he gave me a thank you gesture with his head, before emptying it in one gulp. The empty glass hit the table and then, Jax looked at the dinner, his blue eyes suddenly dull. All the humor had disappeared from his face and his shoulders had stiffened. I approached slowly and touched his hair.

—Whatever you're thinking, don't do it. That isn't going to help.

I touched his head with affection and he nodded, but I knew that those ideas had already made their nest inside his mind and they were not going to leave him.

—It's just... for a minute everything feels normal. You and me in this house. Making jokes together. And a second later, everything comes back and I... I just think... if I had waited for one more fucking day to go Nevada, maybe...

—Jax, don't do that to yourself. -I came closer, until kissed him on his forehead. —You make important decisions every day. Many lives are in your hands, many things depend on you. It's not human to hope that you are not going to make any mistakes. No one blames you, because the guilty ones are the people who made those shots.

—Yes, babe, but the result of those decisions puts me in bed with you and Demian in a box. -Jax grabbed his sandwich and took a big bite. He chewed and swallowed hard. —I just wonder if a part of me knew that this would happen. If I was so unconscious to get something for myself. If I have been selfish without knowing it.

—It's just bad luck, baby. Don't torture yourself anymore. Please. You're a good Son and a good president, never put your wishes ahead, only the good of the club. You wanted to fix the problem soon and things went wrong. That's it.

Jax grabbed my hand and continued to take her dinner in silence. The enormous weight on him was difficult to digest and all I could do was stand by his side, hold his hand and say words of comfort, although I knew he would not believe me until he was ready to forgive himself.

A while later, I was in bed while I heard Jax brushing his teeth in the bathroom. I felt nervous about sharing the bed with him again, but it wasn't bad nerves, I was exciting. I missed my husband at night, and although that was a special situation, I was glad to have him so close again.

Jax took off his shirt and came to bed. He was wearing his sweatpans and his rings on. When his body touched the sheets, he moaned and closed his eyes for a second. He extended his arm to me and spoke without opening his eyes.

—If I asked you to curl up in my chest, would I be pretending too much?

Denied slowly and pleased him. I put my head on his torso, and listened to the beating of his heart. For a few seconds, we were silent.

—I loved Demian, Jax. I appreciated him very much. Really.

—I know that, babe. He loved you too. He always said it.

Placed my hand on Jax's arm, caressing his warm skin. I smelled him, deeply.

—I want you to know that you're not the only one who feels guilt in the heart. Demian's dead puts you in this bed, but if that makes you a bad man... then I'm a bad woman too. -I lifted my eyes to look at him. Jax seemed shocked for my words. —I love Demian, he was family... but if today a man had to die, Jackson, I'm so grateful that it wasn't you.

—C'on here.

He squeezed me hard against his body. I cried. For the lost friend and for the husband safe and sound he had by my side. I know that Jax also cried, although I left my head down to give her some privacy. That night, the strong president, the powerful man of Charming who was able to control everything, broke like a child, with his face hidden in my hair, letting me hold him.

By the end of the day, Jackson Teller was just a man who was glad to stay alive, even if he was willing to put himself in danger one more time when it was dawn again.


	6. Doing our jobs

**_I'm back again!_**

 ** _I'm sorry it took so long to upload a chapter, as I said in the review, it's been a difficult week for work, family and those things ... but I'm still trying to update as fast as I can. I just finished the translation and here is the new chapter._**

 ** _I try to be canon with the characters, and create scenes that have a bit of everything. I love the club ceremonies that were on the show (wedding, funeral, all that), and I wanted to do the previous moments, how Jax prepare himself for the goodbye, how it's at home, trying to make things happen normal, looking for a bit of home feeling inside all the chaos._**

 ** _I like it when the conversations are roguish and a little sympathetic. The Jax of my story is mature, he has grown up, but he is, to a large extent, happy. He tries to recover those and sometimes, an innocent part of him makes him be playful and funny. I also love Gemma, and the relationship with her mother's child! I cannot help thinking that she is a mother-in-law who can not keep her tongue!_**

 ** _So ... I try to give, as I said, a little of everything without losing the characters. You know, English is not my language, so let me know what you think of the story. I hope you want to continue reading to me!_**

 ** _Thanks for the reviews, they help me a lot! I hope they are encouraged to share their thoughts :)_**

 _ **Let's go!**_

* * *

 _ **6**_

 _ **Doing our jobs**_

 _Jax Point of View_

Opened my eyes and for a second, everything was peace.

I felt the warmth of my bed, the familiar sounds of the house, the well-being going through my body full of wounds after a night of good rest. I blinked, letting conscience get closer to me little by little, like a dog stalking me, returning me to the reality of the day I was beginning.

I sat up and put my hand under the pillow, tooking out the gun and left it on the bedside table. I touched my ribs and took a strong breath. The pain had subsided a little, but I could still feel it. Scratched my neck and turned my head, but the other side of the bed was already empty.

My wife slept without moving. Her side of the bed was always tidy, with the sheets spread out and the pillow perfectly centered. Mine, on the other hand, was a disaster. I moved a lot at night, went around from one place to another, restless. I slept with a gun under my head, after all. My life was a continuous succession of problems that I tried to give out during the night and that's why I did not get to rest at times.

Got up and listened to the sound of water coming from the bathroom. Although that morning was far from having something to make me smile, my lips curled unconsciously and before thinking about the possible consequences of my actions, took off my underwear and walked to the bathroom naked.

I could see my wife's back and her long dark hair through the shower screen. She was sliding the hands down her arms, her eyes were closed and the warm water was falling on her small body. There was a little steam enveloping her. She's beautiful. Not in the conventional way. Her beauty is something bigger than bright eyes or a greedy mouth, although she has that too. What makes she beautiful for me are the feelings that hit my chest when I'm like this, just looking at her.

I felt that connection the first time we saw each other and I still have that feeling. Right now, naked of the obligations of my cut and my club, I'm just a man who looks hungry at the woman he misses. She gives me familiarity, peace in time of chaos, a home when I feel homeless.

She gives me comfort when I'm about to face a goodbye that I feel guilty about.

Slowly, I walk to the shower and open the screen. When I'm inside the shower, encircle her waist with my arms and kiss the wet hair. She whispers something to me, but I close my eyes hard and try to get the world to stop at that moment. I know that having the fantasy that we don't have problems isn't a good thing, but right now I need a second of peace in my head.

My wife moves to let the hot water touch my skin and I shudder. She put her hands on the wall. Her fingers are flexed, her small shoulders tense and her forehead wrinkled. I can feel the tension and frustration running through all her body. And although she's wet from the shower, I can see the tears on her cheeks with all the clarity.

—You can cry more if you need it -I say gently, letting my beard caress her shoulder. She nods with her head.

—I'll be strong for Demian, Jax. -She answers, her voice soft but hard. —It's the day for his wife and his brothers to mourn. I'll keep myself quiet so they can break down without worrying about anything else. That's my job.

I didn't say anything, just let her words touch me. I knew the affection that my wife felt for the club, but I was not so deluded, I also knew that sometimes, our way of living, the rules we had, were not easy to swallow. She had assumed much of the burden of being married to an MC man, and now, with me wearing the president's patch, it wasn't all parties with alcohol and loud music.

Things often got ugly, and some things were expected from a member's wife. She had shown herself to be better for the position than I would have expected and that made me feel proud because I knew for sure that I could take care of my business while she took care of my back and the rest of my family in the club.

The funeral ceremony was going to demand a lot from both of us. I supposed that's why she was allowing me to be so close despite all that shit of separation that we were dragging. We needed strength in each other.

—You slept well?

She answered quickly

—You kicked me all night.

—Well... you like when I'm tough, don't you?

Gentle, I let my hands go down to cover with them the flat belly of my wife. I did some pressure and then put my mouth to her ear, biting her softly. She sighed. I knew she had missed having me in bed by her side, but she wasn't going to say it.

—How far would you be now, darlin'? -I whispered, unable to avoid talking about it although I knew it would hurt. —Your belly would be very big, right?

—Jax... stop.

—Seven months? Eight? Maybe I could feel it…

Heard her sigh. She said something in a very low voice and I stopped my words.

—Sorry, babe. I just... I wish it had been true. Am I a fool for missing something that we didn't really have?

—We thought it was there for two days Jax. I miss that sensation too, I feel silly for making a mistake, for telling you I was pregnant and then...

I hugged her tightly, rocked her in my arms, enjoying the moment of closeness even though we were talking about something sad.

—It's not your fault. You did the test and it was positive, we had illusions... sometimes it happens. It sucks, but some couples go through this. I'm sorry I talked about this. I think I'm emotional with all the crap today.

—I get it. But I just... I wish that mistake hadn't happened to us. -She put her hands on the wall again, pressing.

I detected a bit of anxiety in his voice and that made me hope. She regretted every day that her pregnancy hadn't been real. And also I. We hadn't planned to have a child, but when the test was positive, all the clarity came to my brain like a shot. I had loved that baby that had never really existed and I often thought about it. In what it would be like, if it would be a boy or a girl. In his eyes and his small hands...

I had never been the kind of man to let baby shit touch his head, but I guess having the right woman and the right age had changed me. Now I felt mature and wanted things that I didn't think about in my twenties. I wanted to tie myself to this girl. I wanted something from both of us, but I knew that I was not on firm ground at that moment.

Making family plans when the damn divorce papers just kept coming it wasn't a smart thing.

—We have time, -whispered, stroking his navel slowly. The steam from the shower was still around us and although the day was going to be gray, I did not want the mood to go cold. Not yet. —Take the rings off me, darlin'.

—What? Why?

I smiled. My tongue touched her neck softly and I felt her tremble. My morning wood pressed against her back. The blood of my body concentrated in that place, making me roll my hips tight against his body, begging for a little contact.

—Because I'm going to put my fingers between your legs and I don't want to hurt you.

—God, Jackson...

—Yes, you can moan in a minute, sweetheart —put my hand lower, near where his wet curls were. She shuddered, but didn't move. —I know what you're thinking. I know that everything is a mess between us now... but I also know I can make you feel good. I can give you what you need. Let me do this for you, babe. Let me give you pleasure so I can feel that I do something right. I want to make you happy, I want to fix everything... let me start with this. For you. Just for you. Please.

She broke in a million little pieces. I felt it.

—This is dirty play, Jax.

—I'm an outlaw, babe. Dirty is the only way I know.

Her small hands grabbed mine. She pulled out the rings slowly, one by one and extended her arm to drop them over the sink. Afterward, she pressed the wall, but now it wasn't full of frustration and anger. Now, she was shaking with desire and needed to hold on so that the pleasure didn't bend her knees.

Well, she could try to maintain her composure... but I knew her corners very well. I wanted to see her come for me. I needed it. I'm a primitive and simple man. I like it.

I stroked her hip and used the palm of my hand to spread her thighs. I found the slippery path inside her and curved my fingers, looking for the right path. I'm a mechanic. I work with my hands, so they are hard and somewhat rough... but my wife wasn't delicate and she liked me just in the way I am.

I grabbed her with my free arm, sticking it to my body. My ribs hurt and the bandages were soaking wet but at that moment I could bleed to death and I would not have cared. I felt her sweet ass pressed against my dick and I had to take a deep breath. This was for her. I am her husband, I had screwed things up very badly and had to show that I was willing to commit to fixing them.

I had expected a lot without sex, I could wait a little longer.

—Does that feel good, huh? —whispered in her ear. My fingers nailed deep, moving inside her. —You don't know how much I miss this place of yours, babe. -My hips ground hard against her. She moaned. —All of me misses this sweet and wet part of you.

She twisted, tilted her body forward. Her hand grabbed mine harder and begged me not to stop. I was excited like hell, but I had to stay strong for her. I wanted so much to see her come... the sound of her gasps filled my ears and made me feel like a king, because I was finally making her feel something nice to counteract all the bad things that had happened and had kept us apart for six months.

—You've missed me too? -I curved my fingers more, put more pressure, stimulating her non-stop, caressing her, wrapping her swollen clitoris between my fingers. —I'm an asshole, babe, but this... this is my talent, isn't it?

She growled. God, I loved when she pretended to be angry.

—You… talk too… much.

—Maybe -I placed my erection against his buttocks. It was a torture but I couldn't resist the temptation. —You want me to get on my knees and use my mouth on you? Because you know I love pussy for breakfast.

And that was it. She broke against me with a scream. The orgasm made her trembling and her legs turned to jelly. Slowly, lovingly, I took my fingers out and made her turn around. I held her tight against my chest. I felt the strong breathing hitting my torso. Her shoulders were now relaxed. Her lips swollen. Her cheeks full of color.

She looked at me with bright eyes. She pressed closer to my body. My dick against her belly makes me moaned. If she was so close... I was going to empty myself like a teenager. I saw her smile a little, because she was surely enjoying my suffering. This was her way of punishing me for leaving her blind when I had promised to tell everything... I deserved it.

—I hate you Jax.

Gave him a kiss on the forehead.

—Well, it seemed like love to me.

—Let's say... a moment of lust.

Then I wrinkled my brows. Wasn't going to buy that shit.

—Keep telling yourself that, babe. We both know the truth.

My phone rang somewhere in the bedroom and that brought us back to reality. With a sigh, we broke our embrace and finished our shower. I saw her go out and dry with a towel. On his right ankle, shiny black ink, the silhouette of the crow that had tattooed when we became a stable couple.

It was his club brand. When a woman became an old lady, she marked herself with a crow to teach the rest that she had an oficial biker in her life. Some might say it was something old, but we were rooted in our customs.

And I always liked girls with ink.

I retrieved my rings and wrapped a towel around my hip. Silently, I followed my wife's footsteps into the room. I consulted the lost call of my mobile, I put on some dry bandages by squeezing my ribs and started putting on my clothes. She was wearing tight black jeans and a very dark buttoned silk shirt. She was elegant and sober.

I put on my pants, a white T-shirt and a flannel shirt with black squares, and saw her do those strange shits on her face. Powders, mascara... all those kinds of things that were a mystery to me. She put on her wedding ring and picked up her black leather jacket from the closet.

—Do you want something for breakfast? -She asked, while I fixed my hair.

—I'll have coffee at the clubhouse. You should eat. -I put my shirt inside my pants and adjusted my SAMCRO belt. —You're too thin.

—That's all a girl wants to hear.

Shook my head. She put on her jacket and then small and discreet earrings. I took my gun from the bedside table and placed it in the holster that I was carrying on my back. Then, I hung the Ka-Bar on my belt. If she was still impressed to see me armed, she didn't show it. I suppose we all get used to everything.

—I'm a heavy man, darlin'. When I'm fucking you again, don't want to crush you. -grabbed my cut and ran it over my shoulders.

—Look at that, someone feels confident this morning.

I gave him a smile, approached slowly and with soft fingers, pulled her hair out of his jacket and zipped up slowly. Her eyes on me.

—I've been sleeping on a couch for six months, girl. Confident is everything I have.

When the two of us were ready, I picked up the two helmets. My wife grabbed her purse and I saw that she kept my night vision glasses inside. She always did those kind of shitty things that I forgot. And they were small details that meant that our fire was still warm in his heart.

We left the house and got on my bike. The road to the clubhouse was not long, but the day before us was going to be. Brothers from other chartres were arriving at that moment and we had to dismiss Demian as he deserved. Afterwards, I had business to take care of. A meeting with Álvarez to do and some shooters to ask for explanations for the Son died.

My wife's arms grabbed me and I accelerated.

* * *

It was still early in the morning but the line of motorcycles parked at the SAMCRO entrance was already large. I saw the usual bikes and also some new ones, all gleaming Harleys, mostly black. Some customized and carrying the Reaper and club badges.

When one of us fell, the others came en masse. It was nice to see.

I went driving that row, slowly, until I left my Dyna in the place reserved for the president. My wife got out and left the helmet hanging from the handlebar. In the distance, the open door revealed the brothers coming and going, waiting for Demian's arrival. My mother was standing at the door of the office and Opie was approaching us from the TM. He was tall as a tree and had very long hair and beard.

He hugged my wife and lifted her from the ground a little. Afterwards, he put his arm around me.

—I'm sorry you had to return from your second honeymoon in the cabin for this, brother. -I told him, regretting having ripped him of the free days he had asked for.

—I'm married to a porn star, Jax. -Opie said, sunglasses hiding his eyes. —The rest of my life will be a honeymoon.

—You, giant bastard! There's no need to get cocky.

—You know what? It's good that for once it's you who cannot boast, Jax.

Opie laughed and my wife decided she had enough of stupid conversations. She touched my shoulder and pointed to the interior of the clubhouse. I saw the widow surrounded by people, she seemed desperate for an escape route.

—You can handle it? -I asked, leaving my helmet. My wife nodded her head. —Let her know that can ask for everything she needs.

—She'll only want revenge for her husband, Jax.

I grabbed her hand with mine. I pressed.

—Tell her she'll have that too.

My wife sighed and then, she stood on tiptoe to give me a kiss near the mouth. I knew what she was doing, preparing herself for the next few hours. Like my old lady, she would have to take care of the welfare of all the people who were with us; food, bed and all that. Gemma would help her, sure, but right now my wife was the queen of biker wives, and anyone who had questions or wanted to know something, would go to her.

She would be my voice when I was reunited with my brothers. He would speak for me and make decisions with the same authority as me. Her duel would have to wait.

—I'll make sure everyone is comfortable, -she told me. —I'm going to prepare the chapel for when Skeeter brings us Demian.

—I'm sure everything will be beautiful, honey. -kissed her forehead, slowly. —I know it will be a lot of work.

—I'll be fine. -She said, starting to walk towards the clubhouse. I smiled like a fool because I liked to see her move. Shit... I liked everything about her. —So? You don't have anything to do?

I crossed my arms and lifted my chin. I looked at her, presumptuous.

—I don't know, babe. I see you so willing... do you want to take care of my business too?

—Your last name is Teller. That damn table is your thing.

She left, moving her pretty ass away from me.

—You're Teller too! -I told her, raising his voice. —Never forget it.

I smiled a little, until I saw how Demian's widow broke in my wife's arms. God... the thought that one day I could leave her widow came to me, but I tried to pull it out with all my strength from my head.

—I cannot respect you as president when you look like a horny teenager, brother -Opie told me, walking beside me. He was wearing a black shirt too, and his loose hair was pulled back. —That woman has your dick in her hands.

—I wish she did. -I gave him a look of self-pity. —If I keep playing with my right hand longer, I'll have to ask for dinner.

Opie laughed and I did too, although that matter didn't seem funny to me. He went back to the clubhouse and I walked slowly to the office. My mother kissed my cheek and she patted my chest.

—How are you baby?

—A man has died, mom. It's selfish to complain about having a hard day when he'll not open his eyes anymore. —I took my zippo and lit a smoke.

Gemma looked at me as if she could see under my clothes, the flesh and the bone. That scared me to death, because there are things that a man on his thirties needs to hide from his mother.

—I thought that one night in your house would cheer you up, but you don't seem happy at all, Jax.

—We're in mourning, mom. No one will be happy today.

—Yeah... I know that, Jackson. Nothing we do or say will change what happened. Today we're going to say goodbye to a man we all loved, but we have to think, baby, that even from the worst moments, good opportunities can arise.

I looked at her through the smoke. My mother fixed her hair with her fingers and put her eyes on me. I knew where this was going... and even though I did not want my personal shit to cloud my head when I had a funeral to take care of, had learned by the bad way that there was nothing that could stop Gemma when she had something to say.

—I'm looking for a way to fix things, mom. Really do. But that will take me a while.

—I like her, Jax. I think it's the woman for you.

—I know that. I believe it too. -smoked, trying to find the words. —I love her and she loves me. We just need time.

—You broke his confidence, Jax. I think she would have forgiven you for everything, anything, except that. You did not tell the truth. You hid things.

—I know what I did, mom. -used my tone from the table, but Gemma Teller wasn't a member of the club. I couldn't intimidate her even though I spoke with my highest voice. —I'll have her back.

—Well... you slept with her last night and you did not take the opportunity. -My mother crossed her arms over her chest. —When you were six years old, your teacher called me at his office and said "Mrs. Teller, your son is smarter than the others kids" and you know what I answered?

Oh crap... I had heard that story all my fucking life.

—That you already knew that.

—That's right. I told him "I know that my son is much smarter than the others. I've always known it"; so I ask you now, Jackson, was that a lie? Because you don't look pretty smart now, baby. You had the opportunity on a platter and you didn't take advantage of it. She was in that bed with you, all night!

—Shit mom, what did you want me to do? Rape my own wife? Do you think that this way she would have forgiven me?

—It's not a rape if she wants to do it as much as you.

—The things are not so simple.

I knew I could have gotten sex last night. I could have pressed a little, touched some weak points... that morning, in the shower, my wife would have given me the sky if I had caressed her more, she would have surrendered. I knew that. And not because I was a cocky, but because I knew my good weapons, but I wanted something more than that. I wanted her complete forgiveness. I wanted her confidence back. Then, we could throw ourselves to make love like crazy again.

—Things are not that complicated either, Jackson. -Gemma insisted —Teller men are the best in two things. Your father and you, both can make big mistakes, but both can get it all with a lot of sex too.

—Jesus mom!

—C'mon Jackson, do not be so delicate, you're a grown man.

—I'm a grown man who doesn't want to talk about sex with his damned mother.

—I'm sorry, but with sex it's like your father and I conceived you. After he made a big mistake, by the way.

I rolled my eyes. There was no psychiatrist in the world who could fix my head after this conversation.

—Great. My father fucked up and then he knock you up with me to apologize. That's fantastic. I was a dysfunctional kid before, mom, I didn't need all this new information.

—Don't be so dramatic. You have to see the big picture. You have used an ability to do things wrong, now use the other one to do them well.

—Leaving my wife pregnant? -The smile of my mother was brilliant. God... she was obsessed with being a grandmother. —Thanks for the advice, but I think I'll pass.

—Being roomates you're not going to get anything.

—I have my own plan. Thank you very much.

—You're lucky that she has already lost her ass for you. Gemma caressed my cheek. She was giving me one of those mother looks that I did not know if they comforted me or made me nervous. —All I want is for you to be happy, Jax. Keep this family together, that's my job.

—And you do it well, mom. But you have to let me solve all this in my own way. Our girl is not like the others... getting laid is not going to make her trust in me again. She is the kind of woman who needs commitment and great gestures. -I smiled when she opened her mouth, because I knew what she was going to say. —Bigger than a pregnancy.

Gemma didn't seem happy, but in the end, she nodded. I looked at her with affection, because crazy or not, that woman was my mother and I love her. At the end of the day, she just hoped that I would be happy and had everything I wanted with me. I couldn't blame her for that.

—So... do you have a plan?

—I do. And you're not going to keep asking.

Opie knocked on the door of the office at that time and distracted us. Before he gave me the news, his face told me all the words. I sighed and my mother dropped her shoulders. There were no more romantic tips, jokes or light moments. Now the difficult shit began.

It was time to get serious.

—I'm sorry to interrupt Jax, but it's time.

I nodded and left behind Opie. The hearse was standing in front of the long row of bikes and Skeeter had the back door open. A bright black box loomed. My stomach churned, but I raised my head, took my gloves out of my jeans pocket and began to put them on.

Behind me, Tig, Chibs and Bobby were approaching.

—Happy just called. He'll be here in an hour. -Said my VP, looking at me. —Are you going to carry the coffin?

I couldn't take my eyes from the place that contained Demian. Nodded once. I already carried the weight of his death in my conscience, so having the weight of his body on my shoulder was the least that I could do for my fallen brother.

—Demian did a lot for me when he was alive. He deserves to be shown respect on his last trip to the chapel. That's my job.

I preceded the march and the rest of members followed me. Silence came over the Club. It was time to say goodbye.


	7. The end of the shit

**_I'm back!_**

 ** _Sorry I took so long, but I'm not going to leave this story although I'm busy and late in posting the chapter._**

 ** _I hope there is someone who wants to read and comment on it, I promise that now things will get intense... a lot will happen. Jax makes his statement, he knows he doesn't have much time and it's time for him to grab the situation._**

 ** _I hope you enjoy this update, please, any review will be welcome !_**

 ** _Thank you very much for following the story, for the favs and for the love._**

 ** _Now, let's read!_**

* * *

 _ **7**_

 _ **The end of the shit**_

 _OC Point of View_

Demian's coffin crossed the chapel carried by his brothers. Then the doors closed for what was to be their last meeting. Later, when the sun went down, we would go to the cemetery for a private burial. The idea that the man he had met wouldn't go back into the clubhouse laughing and making a fuss, that he wouldn't wear his riding boots again and his kuttie devastated me.

It was a true goodbye. Something definite that couldn't be undone. The ovation of the Sons to their fallen brother inside the chapel was so intense, so deep and solemn, that tears flowed outside. I knew the club's ceremonies, on that special farewell occasion, the prospects could come in and pay homage. All the brothers would leave a memory to Demian inside the coffin, they would pray, drink, tell stories and would take out of their souls pain and grief.

Then, it would be the turn of the close family. His widow and his children, his relatives, would have a moment to say goodbye. They were a broken family now, but the club and its president would be in charge of reminding them that, for everything they might need, they were counting on us.

The Sons of Anarchy never left you and you could always find support in a patch if you asked for it.

Jax would make sure of that. As he would also make sure that this horrendous crime didn't go unpaid.

I felt exhausted, but the day still had many hours ahead, so I raised my head and decided to be useful. Working and not thinking was the best way to face grief. For the next three hours I didn't sit down, I didn't stop for a second to breathe. I offered food, prepared drinks, collected waste, greeted people, wrote down telephone numbers, petitions, condolences and various words. I made sure that all the brothers who arrived had beer in their hands, I kept a soft music and light background, watched the children of Demian, I personally took care of his widow found a few moments to be alone, I made a list for the store to stock the club, and when I did not find anything else to do, I began to wash the glasses and plates that were piled up in the kitchen.

I was starting to get out of the pantry what I needed to make burritos, when Gemma's hand was on my shoulder.

-You are not breathing, baby-girl. And I have not seen you enter the chapel to say goodbye.

-I don't think I cannot do it. Not alone, at least.

I turned. My mother-in-law was smoking a cigarette, now leaning against the side of the wall.

-I'm sure Jax can find a minute to go with you, baby. You have to say goodbye to Demian.

-I don't know if I can handle it, Gem. It's... the idea of not seeing him anymore, opening his eyes when I looks at his face.

-I know... but if he was coveres with dirt and you didn't look at him for the last time, you'll regret it.

I knew that she was right. The last goodbye was important. It was a bit selfish, but necessary, to give you one more time, one last time to observe the face of your loved one before time and rot did their job. I shook my head, I did not want to think about that.

I put the clean glasses and stacked the empty beer bottles before accepting a puff of Gemma's cigarette. I coughed after sucking and the strange sensation that stuck in my head made me realize that this was not a normal cigar. I looked at her with a frown. She just shrugged.

-A bit of therapeutic help. From the Juice store. It would be good for you to have your own private stash.

-No thanks.

I crossed my arms and looked at the men and women who filled the club. The chapel door opened then and the figure of Jax emerged from it. Wore his black shirt on the outside of his pants and waved his zippo urgently between his fingers. He dropped against the open entrance door and covered his eyes with sunglasses. Jax took a few puffs in the air, his face turned away from us. He seemed on the edge of the abyss, balancing so as not to fall.

-His first funeral as president. -Gemma said, whose eyes were also on him. -It's not easy to be the wall against which all those who suffer need to crash.

-He suffers too. He's not made of steel. -At that moment, Chucky approached Jax, holding in his hands a yellow folder that I recognized instantly. Apparently, the useless divorce lawyer I had contacted had decided that this was a good time to send the papers back to Jax. I saw him take them, and, instead of tearing the folder apart as he had done with the previous ones, he put it inside his cut. Then, stepped on the cigarette butt and returned to the club with the hands in his pockets and a fierce expression on the face. -Oh shit.

-Yeah... that doesn't help.

-I need a minute.

Or a ditch in which to hide, I didn't care. Scratching Jax in the face of my intention to end our marriage just the day he said goodbye to a brother wasn't a good thing, even if It wasn't my fault that the messenger had decided to spend the morning in the club, it was on me to keep insisting. I was no longer sure that my reasons were as strong as I thought when started with all that six months ago.

And this time, he had saved the papers, which meant he had not directly rejected the idea of separation. That he was thinking about it scared me to death.

-You're the president's wife baby-girl, you don't need to ask permission to take a break. -Gemma told me, handing me the copy of the keys to Jax's office, which were hanging from a hook in the kitchen. He had the other game. -Maybe that time with yourself will help you think.

-Thinking is just what I don't want to do, Gemma.

I took the keys, and she gave me a sad smile in return.

-I told you once: you were tensing that rope too much. For your face, I deduce that you have noticed. If you keep insisting, you'll lose him, sweetness. —She put her wise eyes on me and I feel myself naked. -And I don't think that's what you really want.

I walked down the hall, passed by JT's bike and went into the office. I closed the door and sat on the couch. Took a deep breath and covered my eyes with my hands. I cried for what seemed like hours. For the fallen friend, for the club that now had an empty chair, for the decisions that had endangered Jax and Happy, for Demian who had not come out alive from that danger, for fear of death, that the boys carried with respect and love on the back, came to take them one day, soon...

Cried for my marriage, because I wanted to keep it but I was afraid to give in, because it hurt me that Jax had broken his promise and hidden things from me, but it hurt more the idea of not being able to call him mine. I wouldn't be able to continue living in Charming, to go through its streets, occupy the house or see the clubhouse if we weren't together.

I couldn't rebuild my life, nor overcome it. He was that kind of man that doesn't forget, because what you live with an outlaw, with a biker, with a Son, is something that doesn't get rid of the skin. It burns into your flesh and your guts and never leaves you.

No matter those damn papers, we could live apart for the rest of our lives... I would still belongs to Jax although I wasn't at all.

I heard the outside voices rise in volume, because the door had opened. I wiped the tears with the back of my hand before turning my head. Jax was there, right in front of me. He gave me a somber look, before closing again to leave us privacy. Slowly, he fumbled in the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a handkerchief he offered me. I used it to finish drying my tears.

-How are you doin'? -I asked, although I didn't expect it to help at all.

-I've had better days.

He walked into the room, rested his hands on the desk chair, looking at the photographs that had been placed on the wall. In one corner, the blankets and pillows he had used to sleep during the past few months were a constant reminder of how things were between us.

-My mother says you've been working until you're exhausted.

-It helps me not to think. -He shrugged, twisting the handkerchief between his fingers. -I've barely seen you all day.

-And you wanted to see me?

Did it hurt. But I guess I deserved it.

-Jax, please...

He denied slowly. His eyes came back to me, blue, bright, sad.

-When you asked me about the vote, I told you that it had been unanimous, but that I would tell you the details later. -He touched his beard. I tried to focus on what he was saying, but I could only think of those papers inside his kuttie. Was he going to accept? Should I be happy? Should I take back? -Tomorrow I'll meet with Alvarez to assure me if the shooter acted on his own or following an order. It's quite clear to me that he only wanted to sign up a bit when he killed a Son but I need his confirmation, and look him at the face when I tell him what the punishment will be for having taken Demian away from us.

-Which is…?

-Death. By my hand.

I looked at Jax intensely. For a few seconds, neither of them said anything, then he came over and took a seat next to me on the couch. He raised his hand to touch mine, which was still holding the handkerchief he had given me, but at the last second, he didn't.

-I tell you this because I want you to know exactly what is going to happen. In the past, I have tried to protect you from the worst layers of my life by hiding things from you, that has been a mistake. I'm not stupid, so I'm not going to make the same mistake twice. -He put his hand on his knee. I looked at her rings, and contemplating her married band, still on her ring finger, comforted me. -Revenge for the death of my brother requires blood. I feel responsible for what has happened, and it doesn't matter if I'm guilty or not, it's my obligation and my duty to be the one to put an end to all the shit. I'm going to kill that man in cold blood by looking him in the eye. I just wanted you to know it.

Jax remained silent, I imagine giving me minutes to assimilate everything he had just told me. Honestly, that did not impress me. I hoped that revenge for Demian's death would bring more death. I knew that had happened in the past, I knew... that Jax had killed before. That wasn't going to be the first time. And it wasn't going to be the last, but I don't think there is anyone in the world who can react with complete naturalness when listening to something like that.

Slowly, I swallowed and moved my body until I turned it to where Jax was. He remained motionless, as if he feared that his words would trigger a reaction of rejection or fear on my part. It wasn't so. I love this man, I love every part of him, even those who were impossible to love. I love him for his courage, for his sense of loyalty and also, in a sick way, for his innate ability to be violent when something deserved violence.

Maybe I should be terrified that those hands that I now saw near me were determined to end the life of a human being, but all I could think about was that Jax had confirmed to me his plans to give me time to reconcile his image as my husband with the murderer. And that, for me, it mattered.

-It's okay. -I said at last. -I know that's what you must and need to do. I can only tell you: say safe, and I don't mean just getting hurt, Jax. Stay safe with everything and everyone. I don't need to know more about this.

He nodded his head. His fingers finally brushed mine, and our hands entwined.

-When it's all over I'm going to have to be under radar for a while. Just for precaution. I thought about going to the cabin for a couple of days, and I want to take you with me. -Slowly, Jax pulled out the folder with the divorce papers from his cut, and held it up in the air, looking me in the eye. -Today I received this, to remind me that I still have a deadline over my head.

-Is that why you told me all about Demian's shooter?

-Partly. And on the other hand because I don't seem respectful to hide things from you anymore. That's cost me much more than I can pay, babe. I want this marriage, I want to fight until there is no life left, but it seems that you think it's already dead and that breaks my heart.

-Jax... -I tried to take the folder from his hands, but he didn'tlet me. -Do you want me to get rid of them for you?

He denied and the fear returned to bite me inside.

-I know that I have already asked you more than I have the right to ask, but this whole situation has taught me that I shouldn't throw the towel while I still have a little hope left. And I have it, babe. I really do. —He put his han don my face. His eyes like fire on me. -Come with me to the cabin, just a couple of days, you and I alone, without the club, without shooting, death or problems. Without any of the other assholes or my mother pushing us. You and me, like a late honeymoon.

-A honeymoon while you're hiding after killing a man.

-You could have married a dentist if you wanted a normal life, but you wanted me. -Jax smiled just a little bit. -I know I'm not perfect. I'm not a deluded man. The only thing I ask is two days, that we both do our best. Let us be husband and wife and leave everything else behind. One more try. Just give me that. Please.

I felt my chest shrink. Blood pumped in all directions and my eyes itched again. A tear fell on my lips and Jax picked it up with his fingers very gently. We look at each other, without joy or passion, only with despair. With regret. Afraid it was the last time.

Jax's expression was devastating.

-Let me show you that the boy you fell in love with is still here, babe.

-What if… if it doesn't work out?

Then, he returned to keep the divorce papers inside his cut and let go of my hands. Slowly, he stood up, he rubbed his hands over his face and when he spoke, his voice was husky and distant.

-If after that time you're still determined, then I'll sign the divorce, remove this ring from my finger and I'll let you go. Everything will be over between us.

Without looking at me again, Jax left the office and left me alone. Then, with his sentence still weighing on my head, it was me who felt her heart break.


	8. Call of duty

**_I am so happy for the answer of the previous chapter!_**

 ** _I didn't expect so many good opinions, and I'm very, very satisfied. I know that the translation has errors, I'm working on that to make it as perfect as possible. I want the characters to be recognizable and the story to have coherence and quality._**

 ** _Now, I want to comment some things:_**

 ** _I'm very grateful to the reader who said that really likes Jax's maturity, thank you, that's very important to me! I'm placing this story between the fifth and seventh seasons, with some changes in the canon, of course, but in that period. Jax is an adult man, he is not a child anymore, he cannot run the club being inmature, cheating with croweaters or those things. I didn't want to repeat some things that I had read or seen in the show and I'm trying to give Jax a proper personallity to his age, to the moment of his life that he's going through and to his personal situation. I'm glad I'm not doing it that bad!_**

 _ **About me OC, I love that you like it! It has no name yet, or many descriptions because I like that each reader imagine her as everyones likes. She has to be mature, a strong woman, of course, cannot be the old lady of the president otherwise. They have problems, but when she is needed, she is with her husband.**_

 ** _So... I really appreciate the follows, the favs, the reviews and all those words that tell me that the story is going the right way. If you can see Jax, if the conversations, thoughts and situations seem real, credible... I cannot ask for more!_**

 ** _Well, here's another new chapter. I have really enjoyed this, interspersing the life of the club with the peculiar way of being of the characters. I love Tig, I love Happy and I love as Jax REALLY TRY, find his good side, his tender and innocent side to take the weight off other people... but then load it all himself._**

 ** _In the next, we're going to the booth, so let me know what you think of this, if you want to continue reading, what life events you would like to see... and anything you want!_**

 ** _Thank you very very very much for your patience, for your support and for putting up with my mistakes when I translate this story. As Jax says at the beginning of this chapter, I am trying to do my best!_**

* * *

 _ **8**_

 _ **Call of duty**_

 _Jax Point of View_

I was doin' my best to be a decent man. For real.

I knew what I had to do and the hours went by faster than I had expected. When the road you are traveling will take you to an unpleasant destination, it usually seems that you move at a thousand milles per hour, and each blink brings you closer and closer to the terrible end of crashing against the wall of consequences to the decisions you have made.

Everything had taken me to where I was now, standing in the entrance of the clubhouse with the sun setting behind me after Demian's funeral. It had been a pleasant service, with loving words and memories that managed to even start some smiles. I had done everything right to avoid widening the list of problems that SAMCRO was already facing, had spoken with Sheriff Roosevelt to request a special permit in which the bikers could take the main street behind the hearse, with all the chartes carrying their cuts and identifying colors.

We put the stickers with the word funeral attached to our bikes, and although the noisy pipes of our Harleys roared all over Charming, I made sure that there was no alcohol, drugs or fights during the entire ceremony. We were good boys, we did things right and we fired our brother without incidents.

Acting in good faith and being honorable citizens from time to time was important, especially because when I woke up I was going to kill a man.

As I said, I was doin' my best to be a decent man, but things take time.

With the night almost falling, the vast majority of members of the Sons of Anarchy from other towns had begun to disperse. Many had several hours ahead of them until they reached their homes, where their tables and votes waited for them. I hugged and said goodbye to my brothers, hoping that the next time they visited Redwood charter it would be for a happier reason.

I smiled when my uncle Jury accelerated his motorcycle to return to Indian Hills. I lit a cigarette and took several puffs. That day seemed never to end, and the next ahead seemed even darker. Beside me, Opie took off the funeral sticker on his bike and hit my shoulder.

-You ok brother? -I asked him, knowing that all that funeral ceremony brought many memories of shit.

-You know... all I need is a hot bath and a blow job from my beloved pornstar wife. That's always makes me feel better.

I smiled, although my eyes were tired to show any kind of joy.

-Yeah... I feel just like you about hot baths.

Opie tilted his head in farewell and then walked away. Lyla was waiting for him. She had been in the Cadillac with my mother and my wife, who had followed the funeral procession behind the Harleys. I still had to organize the next day, decide who would accompany me to my meeting with Alvarez and prepare everything for my stay of a few days in the cabin.

I trusted all my brothers. All the men who sat at the table that I directed were worthy of my absolute loyalty and trust and I would be sure to have any of them with me, but the club couldn't remain empty of all command and my family needed to be protected while I was away.

On the other hand, there was that ultimatum that I had put my old lady... the biggest bluff of my life, because there was no way that God, or any mortal could make me sign the damn papers of divorce of my own free will. The only way I would let her go, was for her to look me in the eyes and tell me that she wasn't in love with me anymore.

I had two days to convince her that I was still the fucking love of her life.

Compared to that task, killing Demian's killer seemed like a piece of cake.

I stepped on the cigarette butt and walked slowly to the Cadillac. My mother had already entered the clubhouse, probably to make sure everything was clean and sickly arranged before she could go home herself. Luckily, she had Chucky to accept all her orders and demands. I smiled, they were one of those strange couples that, for some reason, worked well.

I tapped on the glass and my wife got out of the car. She wore her braid a little undone, falling over her shoulder and an elegant black dress. She had little makeup but for me, she was even prettier than that morning when she had applied all those shit cosmetic. I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

-Are you calm? -She nodded, but I knew her... although the nerves were devouring her stomach, she wouldn't have told me. -I cannot go home tonight, babe. I need to be focused. We will ride early in the morning.

-Where's the meeting going to be? Neutral ground?

I made a gesture of affirmation. To my right, Tig and Happy approached with very slow steps. They were waiting for instructions from me, but they were also giving us a few minutes of privacy.

-Don't worry about any of that. -I told her, lowering his head and kissing his forehead only because I couldn't keep my mouth away from her for long. -I'll be fine.

-It's better for you.

I smiled. She is so beautiful and I am so fucked up... I wanted her back, but to get that, the thingd before had to improve. I couldn't work on fixing my marriage with my plate full of revenge and murder. All I wanted was to be a regular husband, at least for a while, to reconcile my work as president with my obligations to my old lady.

I had to get it. I was determined to do it, and I would, although the conscience for the evil that I had to do before embracing the good, didn't let me sleep in peace for the rest of my life.

-Tig will take you home. -I said aloud. My brother nodded. He had crossed his arms and was standing behind me. -It's ok for you?

-I like Tig. - My wife smiled, and I listened as he sent a kiss in her direction. -I'll go in my car and he can follow me on his bike. I need to go home to pack some things, for both of us. Afterwards, he can escort me to the cabin. I'll waiting for you there, Jax.

My heart skipped a beat. Or maybe it beat so hard that it broke my rib. I didn't care. I hadn't had the courage to ask the question, but now I received an answer that allowed me to breathe again.

-Are you accepting my proposal to come with me for a few days?

-I do. -My wife took my hand, caressing my fingers so gently that the hair on my neck shuddered. -Actually... I could use some food for the pantry, too. Tig?

-Love shopping.

I looked over my shoulder at my brother. I thanked him with a gesture, and he put on his sunglasses like he didn't care.

-So... you pack my shit too?

-Someone has to make sure you have enough flannel shirts and clean underwear, Jackson.

-It's not in my plans to wear a lot of clothes. -I approached a little more, until my legs brushed hers. I wrapped her hips in my arms, holding her heat and smell against me. -You'll not regret giving me this opportunity, babe. I promise.

-Go back to me, Jax. That's all I ask.

-Deal. -Finally, I let her go. She picked up her purse from my mother's car and then started walking slowly. -Hey! If you're going to go for food, don't forget to get those cereals for me... the ones I like to have for breakfast.

My wife frowned, hoping I would laugh, but I didn't. I approached again and pulled some dollars out of my pocket. I left them in her hands.

-What? I like triple sugary with chocolate chips. It's the breakfast of the champion bikers.

I eat that shit since I was eight. Love it.

-You're a grow man, Jax.

-And I've become one thanks to those damned cereals. Buy me two boxes, I really like them. -I kissed her mouth twice. Short but wet kisses. She pulled me away with a laugh. She was somewhat shy and I liked that. -Go to prepare our bags. Stay with Tig all the time.

She touched her temple, as if offering me a military salute and after that, she went to her car. Then, Tig approached me. I put my arm around his shoulders.

-I know that the task of taking care of my wife doesn't seem important compared with what we're going to do with Álvarez, Tig. I want you to know that I appreciate your help and for me, knowing that you're with her, gives me the peace of mind I need to avenge our brother. I hope you understand.

-There's no problem, boss. -He touch my chest with his hand, at the height of my heart. -I know you have me in here. You trust me to take care of your old lady and that means a lot. Be careful tomorrow.

-I'll take Chibs and Happy with me. -I said, looking for the cigarettes inside my pocket again. -I need Opie and Bobby here, keeping an eye on the clubhouse.

-Gem?

-Rat. And Juice will come if we call him. -I exhaled the smoke through my nose. I looked up, the sky was all black. -Plus, she has Chucky and that Nero Padilla guy that we've been hearing about lately.

Tig scratched his forehead, and gave me an eloquent look. That was a subject we had to discuss, but not at that moment. One thing at a time.

-I'll have your wife's back, Jax. You have nothing to worry about that. And we will get your cereals.

-I knew I could trust you -smiled, hugging Tig. —I love you, brother.

He was already leaving, when he remembered something he wanted to say. He turned to me, I looked at him with a questioning look on my face.

-Can I ask you something, Jax? About tomorrow, you know. I cannot be there and I was very close to Demian...

-Sure, anything you…

-Can you bring me an ear?

Well... I didn't see it coming.

-Excuse me?

-An ear. -Tig grabbed his own with the hand. -From the guy who shot Demian. Right or left, that doesn't matter to me.

-Do you want an ear of the man I'm going to kill, Tig? Are you serious?

He shrugged his shoulders, apparently, none of that seemed strange. Jesus Christ... I couldn't believe it.

-You can cut it off before or after killing him, Jax. That doesn't make any difference.

-You want me to mutilate the man I should kill. -I pronounce very slowly, because fuck... I needed to be sure that I was hearing well.

-It's a kind of message, boss.

-And you don't think that killing him will be a enough message?

I smiled. Don't misunderstand me, I didn't like to cut ears after -o before- killing people. I was just a mechanic who did bad things because they were the call of my duty, but that shit... that seemed so surreal that I almost felt like laughing. I knew Tig Tragger since I was just a kid, but he never stopped surprising me.

-I'll do it. -Happy's deep voice echoed beside me. Tacoma's assassin nodded hard, his arms folded over his chest. -I'll bring the ear. No problem.

Then, I hit Happy's shoulder. That's worked for me.

-Be my guess, bro.

I waited in the parking lot until, a little while later, my wife's car moved away from the clubhouse. Tig was right behind her, driving her bike. Knowing that she was going to pick up some things and drive that night at the cabin reassured my spirit. I wanted her away from me when I had to do something dirty, which was stupid, because my list of bad actions would remain exactly the same when I met up with her again.

That my wife didn't see me pulling the trigger didn't mean she didn't know I was going to do it.

Marriage, what a complicated shit.

-Is everything okay, Jackie-boy? -Chibs came with me inside the clubhouse. I sat on one of the bar stools and he did the same. -You should sleep, we're going to ride early in the morning.

-I don't think I'll be able to close my eyes tonight, brother. But I'm going to try.

Chibs nodded slowly, emptied the rest of his beer mug, then scratched his mustache. He was one of my closest brothers. A man in whom I put all my faith. I would trust my life, without hesitation.

-If it helps you... you're doing the right thing. What everyone expects you to do. Nothing new can be built on a crooked foundation, Jackie.

-I hope you're right.

And I also hoped that by the time the new foundations of SAMCRO began to be built, wouldn't be me the one to broken apart.

I waited sitting at the bar until long after my mother went home. I rejected a bowl of chili from Chucky, but I accepted a coffee with a Jameson stream, to silence my conscience for a few hours. Then, I entered my office, took off my cut, the cartridge belt with the guns, the Ka-Bar and the sneackers and I crashed in the coach, with a lost look, while I caressed my wedding ring and thought about the two days that would have ahead.

All I wanted was conjugal life. A break and a second chance to do things right, to keep trying to be a good man, a loving husband and an honest president.

I wanted my club on the right side of the law. And I wanted my wife by my side in bed.

Noble intentions filled my head... but when I fell asleep, I didn't dream of any of them.

* * *

Before dawn, Chibs, Happy and I went to Morada by car.

The bikes were more recognizable and noisy and for a business like the one we were going to do, it was much better to go unnoticed.

The meeting with Álvarez had been set on neutral ground, not to much inside of Charming, not to much in South Cali, where the Mayans' clubhouse was located. Desert land in its majority, of easy access and easy exit. My intention wasn't to delay that conversation too much, and when I shook the other president's hand, I knew that his wasn't either.

Three men accompanied him, but none of them approached.

-I feel sorry that we see the faces in this situation, Jax. -He told me, with his accent marked. -I spent the last two days interrogating my men without skimping on efforts... and I can tell you honestly, what happened to that dead Son was not a call of mine. The murderer didn't act following orders. He's only a bad soldier who's no longer worthy to wear the patch of _Los Asesinos de Dios_.

Then I realized that, really, Álvarez had not brought three men, but two. The third was kneeling on a mound of earth. His face was bleeding and he had a blue handkerchief covering his mouth. The patches on his cut had been took off.

-I want to believe that things between the Sons and the Mayans are at peace, Marcus. -I said, offering him a cigar that he accepted. -The shit of the past has already cost us many good members, on both sides. That madness of war that was in my father's time only served to fill the streets with blood.

-And it was all red when it flowed, I know. -Alvarez denied strongly. He seemed very upset with all that. All right. I was too. -I don't intend to break our good relations, Jax. I appreciate what you are doing. The end of the fights, the understanding... that's important. Doing business with the Sons is much better than dying against them.

-Sounds like we're on the same page.

Then, Alvarez made a gesture and the two Mayans approached with the man they were tied to. They threw him to the ground, practically at my feet. It took me a few seconds to get to look him in the eye. He seemed scared, but his feelings meant a shit to me.

Álvarez touched my shoulder. His voice was full of sorrow, but it was firm.

-I have used all methods within my reach, Jax, and I can confirm to you without any doubt that this is the man who shot your friend. The men who followed him have already been punished, but this one was the one who fired. He acted of his own free will, if his intention was to open a gap between us, I don't know. -Marcus pointed at him. -As a gesture of goodwill, and hoping to maintain our friendship relationship, I offer it to you so that you avenge the brother who will no longer be able to sit at your table. And I apologize, on behalf of my club.

-I'm not a man who holds grudges for no reason, Marcus. The fault of the death of Demian is in this man, and only in him. I'll not extend my revenge to the rest of the Mayans, not me, not any other member of the Sons of Anarchy. You have my word.

Álvarez nodded and formally shook my hand.

-Well, I hope you find more loyalty in your crew than this man showed me. -He gave her a look of absolute contempt and then spat on the ground. -I would have finished with him myself, but I understood that you wanted to have that satisfaction.

-Doing that's my duty. -I put a cold look on the man. -And my privilege.

I saw Alvarez turn his back and walk away, escorted by the other two Mayans who had accompanied him. At my feet, the disgraced shooter was panting, while his wounds ran bloodlessly.

To my right, Happy gave me my leather gloves and while I put them on, he loaded the gun and held it within my reach. Before I took it, I leaned down, grabbed the man on the floor from the back of the neck and raised his face until his blood-filled forehead was in contact with mine.

-I don't know what your name is, and I don't give a shit, but I'm Jax Teller, and before your life ends I want you to engrave my face in your memory. -Clenched my fist harder, hit my forehead against Maya's, who grunted something. With my other hand, I hit my chest. -This is my heart. I imagine that's the real target that your bullets were looking for, but you were a coward, you shot from a distance and in the back. However, you hurt me, because you killed of us. That's something I cannot forgive.

I got up and took the glock from Happy's hands. I aimed directly at the head of the man, who put her eyes on me. I removed the safety.

-That's it. I want you to look at me, so you know that you're leaving this world because me, Jax Teller, am here to avenge the death of my brother Demian. You were a bad member of your club and a cowardly shooter, but that doesn't matter now, because in a few seconds, your name will be erased and nobody will ever say it again.

I fired once. And that was enough.

Chibs grabbed the gun and Happy used her foot to throw the dead man to the ground. He pulled a pocketknife out of his cut and picked it up. The sun shone on the sharp blade.

-Can I take a souvenir for Tig before we clean this up, boss?

-Whatever you want. -I said, without any emotion. -I'll wait in the cage.

Chibs approached me.

-This's what you had to do, Jackie. Now our brother's soul can rest in peace.

I nodded, though I was tempted to ask what happened to our souls after something like that. Slowly, feeling the weight of the whole world in each of my steps, I walked away from the scene, without seeing how Happy, with a smile on his face, cut the right ear of the man I had just killed.

I got into the car and closed my eyes tightly. It didn't matter how many reasons I would have had to do what I had done, and it didn't matter what name I gave my actions -retaliation, call of duty, revenge...- killing made me a murderer and the idea of reconciling myself with that word was twisted my guts.

I had killed a man who had killed another. Where was the difference between the two of us? At that time, I couldn't find it.

Opened my eyes, and the rear view mirror of the car returned my reflection. My face was covered in the blood of the man that I had murdered, just like my hands.

No, I didn't find any difference.


	9. A normal husband

**_I'm back!_**

 ** _I want to thank for the private messages, the reviews and the interest for my uploads. It takes me a lot of time to write with my other obligations, I have to write in Spanish and then translate it and I really try to do my best so that there are no grammatical errors and everything is well understood._**

 ** _I tried this time to put the correct quots, the quotes before the dialogues. In Spain it is done with scripts (-) but I have been told that this is more correct and easier to understand, so I am making my biggest effort so that this story has quality and wants to be read._**

 ** _This chapter is about a cabin. There will be a few. Marital life, couple ... the moment spent by Jax and his wife has been hard and they need to connect before they can make decisions._**

 ** _In this climb, there is sex! It was the first time in a long time and the hunger was too much... so perhaps it's not too spectacular. I hope not to disappoint, it's my first intimate scene in English, so... let me know how it went, if it seems consistent with Jax, if yo likes him, his character, his words, his maturity and decisions... all!_**

 ** _I accept suggestions and I thank you for your help, I hope you still want to support this story, read it, comment it and follow it. I keep doing my maximum effort for that._**

 ** _Now, enjoy the chapter!_**

* * *

 _ **9**_

 _ **A normal husband**_

 _OC Point of View_

Tig went with me to do the shopping with diligence and after that, he loaded all the bags to the kitchen of the cabin. He helped me arrange the products on the dark-colored granite bar that presided over the room.

Although that house had been practically Piney Winston's nursing home, after he died, the boys had made some changes and improvements. Thanks to Juice, the cabin lost in the middle of the forest had an internet line and Netflix, something that caused the laughter and boos of his patch brothers, who believed that the only thing necessary to make the place more comfortable, besides removing the smell to stale whiskey and change the sheets, was to put small refrigerators in all the rooms and supply them with beer.

At that moment, while I was placing Jax's cereal on the shelf and leaving a few vegetables on the cutting board, Tig put the six-pack into the fridge, lit the lamps and gave a general look at the living room and bedroom.

He even focused on the wall one of the photographs of the First 9 that was crooked. There were many images on those walls, many of which were the work of a thorough revision that Gemma and I had made a couple of years before, to keep us occupied and feel warm home while the boys served time in prison.

"So... there're no bears under the bed, no skunks hidden in the bathroom and Piney's trunk with dirty magazines is still hidden somewhere out of sight." Tig smiled, opened a beer and leaned against the wall, watching my movements. "I left the suitcase in the main room. Did you know that Jax has a revolver fixed to the underside of the bed?"

I shrugged, washing kitchen utensils and starting to chop peppers.

"I'm not surprised. He hides weapons and ammunition everywhere." In fact, he would sleep on the side of the bed that was closest to the door in case... I don't know, a vampire was trying to get in the middle of the night.

"A man who takes precautions our president..." Tig took a drink. I gathered my hair in a messy bun, washed my hands and began to organize everything to prepare pasta Bolognese. "Speaking of him... is that divorce thing real, or are you trying to get the balls bigger than Jax's?"

Tig's blue eyes smiled at me when he asked. I lowered my shoulders and sighed. I remembered that, at the beginning of my relationship with Jax, all this family unity seemed... confusing. There was very little space to feel something like really yours or personal. Carrying the same patch, sharing the table, killing and almost dying for your brothers, made the lines between the private and the public diffuse. I found it hard to understand at first, but now that I was part of all that, it seemed natural to have conversations about my personal life with the boys, because they were also part of it.

Of course, there were some issues that I found uncomfortable to share, things that Jax was also silent about, because he was very jealous of our life as a couple. However, with our possible separation on the table, I understood that Tig had doubts, as I also understood that Opie had asked or Gemma was pending. The stability of the club was very linked to the stability of its president.

And beyond that, those men love Jax and me. They knew that we wouldn't be happy if we were separated.

"It's complicated, Tigy."

His strong hand rested on my shoulder and I let that comfort me. I started cutting the peppers into pieces. I put the water in the pasta to boil and I wondered if Jax would want the big or small pieces of tomato... it was stupid to worry about that. I knew where he was. I knew what he was doing. And anyway, I asked simple questions about food to get my husband's other side out of my mind.

At least, until he came back and together, we had to face it.

"I'm not going to show off all the details, because the boss is very jealous of you and he hasn't shown us the complete picture." Tig said, leaving his empty beer in the recycling bin indicated for the brightness. Bikers in favor of the environment. "Nobody expected the shit to be so ugly to us, what he had to do today, love... I don't know if he could have got through without you."

"He has me for everything he needs. That will always be like this. Our separation has nothing to do with his duties as president, it's something personal. Something that has to do with his duties as a husband."

Tig nodded. I thanked him for not trying to help me at that moment with more words, because I was crossing a very thin line to keep the sweet and loving image of Jax in my head above that of a cruel man that I knew he could be too. That I knew he was.

I wasn't going to enter into justifications, nor was I going to talk about morals, good or evil. My husband did very good things for people, but he was also a man capable of doing the most terrible thing imaginable. I knew that when I chose him above all other men. I knew his imperfections, and that wasn't the reason why I had started the divorce proceedings.

Maybe I was a woman who was out of her mind, because at that moment I was making dinner for a man who was going home with his hands full of gunpowder. Should I consider the situation in another way? Should I repudiate him because his principles were not those of the common society?

I didn't know. So I started cutting tomatoes.

"I don't think there's anything in this damn world that Jax loves more than you." Tig told me, that he started to wash the vegetables and mix them in a pan. He had a very good hand with the kitchen. "I think he would do everything you asked him to do."

"I hope that." Smiled a little. "I want to convince him to wash the dishes."

Tig laughed and for a few minutes, we cooked in silence. I put the pasta to a boil, I took salad vegetables and I left them on the bar. The night had fallen and the surroundings of the cabin were silent. The tranquility was noticeable and I allowed myself to sigh. Jax would arrive soon and anything that had happened would stay behind the door. Our problems, his duty calls with the club... everything could wait two days.

Two days when he and I were going to be husband and wife, try to put a stone on what we had done wrong and start again. Or... break that marriage forever.

"I think, love, that you have the most difficult thing in your hand." I heard Tig, who was stirring and putting salt on the vegetables that softened the fire. "Mama Gemma always looked at you with good eyes. And she'ss a woman who looked bad even at the female doctors who cared for Jax when he was a child. Your mother-in-law loves you, and that's... terrifying and quite an achievement on your part."

"Well, I had to earn her with hard work, I'm not going to lie." The first few weeks as Jackson's girlfriend were not exactly a piece of cake. "She was so attached to her son that I feared she would come to kiss him on the forehead on our wedding night.

"We kept her drunk at the wedding to take away the temptation to do it." Tig confessed, making me laugh.

"I appreciate that. Really" My face adorned with a smile. "Gemma is a great woman. She is strong, capable of everything. She could hold the weight of the world on her heels, I admire her, I really do, but I'll do all those family things different. When Jax and I have our children, I..."

Wow. Where had that come from?

Tig pointed at me with his finger. At that moment, the unmistakable roar of Jax's Harley filled our ears, and the light from headlights illuminated the kitchen window. I took a cloth to wipe my hands, Tig removed the food from the fire and he checked his gun at the waist of his jeans.

"I'll keep the secret of your maternal yearnings." He told me with a brother's gesture. "Your man is here for the night."

I walked to the living room, but at the last second, I stopped. I heard Jax speak and it seemed to me that Chib's voice sounded too. They had returned to Charming for Jax to pick up his bike and now they would return, this time escorting Tig, using the car in which they had gone to the meeting with Alvarez.

They didn't expect war or reprisals, but no Son would travel alone if they could avoid it.

I saw Jax enter the cabin. He had his head high, wore a sweater with the zipper closed and his riding gloves. He entered the toilet without stopping anywhere else. A minute later, I heard the water run.

"He needed to make himself presentable for his Old Lady." Tig told me, giving me a soft kiss on the cheek. "I'm leaving now. These idiots have to get home."

I went to the door. Chibs stretched his arm and I took his fingers. He winked at me.

"Be good to him, beautiful. It has been a hard night."

"Well, I'm sorry for him, because my plans are not to be soft."

The boys laughed. Later, Tig rode on his motorcycle and Chibs started the car. I waved goodbye to Happy, who was sitting in the back seat and holding a small dirty paper bag in his hands. I didn't want to ask. Stayed by the door until the car was gone. At the entrance to the cabin was only Jax's Dyna.

With a sigh, I closed the door and returned to the warmth inside. He was leaving the bathroom at that precise moment. His hair was wet. He had put on a white T-shirt and soft sleeping pants. He put a small pistol on the coffee table and left the towel with which he had been drying his hair on the sofa. He smiled at me. His blue eyes tender, affectionate... he seemed the good old boy. The boy I had fallen in love with to the bone.

But... he had been running to change his clothes and shower, because he had brought something he did not want me to see.

I didn't want to think about that now.

"I'm making Bolognese. It will be ready in a few minutes. Do you want to help me?"

"I want you."

My heart pounded, we were alone, without excuses, and the temptation of their closeness made me tremble. Jax smiled again.

"Your sweet tongue is not going to spare you from washing dishes."

"Well, babe, that we'll see."

I went back to the kitchen and he followed my tracks. I left the cutting board and put some onions and potatoes on it. I gave him a knife that Jax looked at suspiciously. He shook his head, returned to the classroom and then, coming back with me. He brought his Ka-bar between his fingers, unsheathed it and began to cut with the big leaf firmly held in his hands.

"I'll cook." Jax said, concentrating on his task. "But I'll do it like a man."

"The short knife wasn't going to take away your manhood, you fool" I answered him.

We talked about nonsense, prepared dinner and then, when I was draining the pasta, I felt Jax's arms encircle my waist. He put his chin on my shoulder and left a few soft kisses on my skin. I felt the warmth of his tongue, his teeth bite me very gently. I closed the eyes. His big hands, working man, caressed my belly.

His husky voice touched my ear.

"You're not going to ask me?"

I denied slowly.

"I know you did it. And I know that should be done. I don't need to know more about that. That's club businesses."

Jax spun me around. I touched the hair on his chin. I pulled gently and he moved his face to kiss the palm of my hand.

"I'm not going to blind you again, babe. I did that once and I have divorce papers weighing on my head. I'm a slow man to learn, that's true, but I learn. I swear."

"You have asked me for two days, Jax. I'm going to give them to you."

"And after those two days? What will happen to us?"

I put my hands on his shoulders. I had to hold on the tips of my feet because he was much taller than me. Our eyes connected. I smiled a little. I was tense, I wasn't a liar, I wasn't going to tell lies! What had happened with Demian, the call of duty that Jax had answered... all that bothered me. I was restless and worried, but when you live the life of the MC, you learn early that you must embrace the moments of calm because they're very rare and scarce.

Two days sounded like music, although our sentence was still pending trial.

"Baby steps, Jax. I'm not going to pressure you to tell me details of today. I don't know how much I want to know."

"I understand that." He put his forehead on mine. "I did what I did because that was what I had to do. But... I need time to reconcile myself with that, babe. Everything I want now is... it's just being a normal husband. Your normal husband."

"That's sound good for me. You're hungry?"

"I'm starving."

I moved to get the pasta, but Jax grabbed my waist and he held me still. I saw him bow his head and then he kissed me hard. At first his mouth was invasive but soft, looking for space, but then, he was demanding, a little rough. I was so lost... because I loved when he was so sexual and possessive. His hand grabbed my hair and he let go of my bun and the strands fell everywhere. Jax grabbed my shirt and lifted it, pulling it over my head until my white bra was visible. His warm hands brushed my chest and he pressed into my throat, down to my navel and stopping at the waistband of my pants.

"Here or in bed, babe. Think fast."

"I thought you were hungry."

"I am. Of you. Six months of appetite without any satisfaction." He wore his patented Teller predatory smile. I knew that if I said no, he wouldn't force me. We wouldn't argue, and he wasn't going to get angry. Jax would only let me go if I wanted to leave... but I don't want to go anywhere. "I'm dying to consume you, babe. Hurry, hard, dirty, rough. Just as you like it."

As I said, I don't want to go anywhere.

"Then we're going to leave dinner for later."

I grabbed Jax's hand and dragged him to the bedroom. The main room had a large wooden bed and was covered by blankets with fabric in autumn colors. It was funny, that bed had always seemed like one in which the Indians would go to sleep, because the bedside lamps gave a light that made the wood bright and dark. I loved that rustic space, practical and strong furniture.

In one corner there was an armchair. Our suitcase was next to the bathroom door and on the walls, more photographs of moments to remember. John Teller was smiling at his motorcycle, with the smoke of his cigar around his head. Piney Winston was by his side, young and thin.

In another picture, Jax held Opie's oldest son in his arms. My husband had his blond hair very long at that time and his eyes were covered by sunglasses, but I knew he was smiling.

On the chest of drawers, there was a large photograph of our wedding day. I imagined that Gemma had left her there. Jax and I laughed holding hands and passed through a motorcycle corridor while rose petals fell on our heads. I was wearing an elegant ivory white leather jacket over my wedding dress. On the back was a patch where you could read "Wife of Anarchy."

I remembered how much Jax had enjoyed that little detail.

"I love you." He told me, returning me to the present moment. "I love you more than that day."

"Are you sure? I remember that you loved me very much on our wedding day."

"Do you want to tested me?"

"Maybe I do."

The atmosphere became intimate and hot. Jax's breath came out of his nostrils hard. He grabbed my face with his hands and kissed me very hard.

"I want to do you so many things, babe..." he whispered, his hands entering my pants and letting them fall. "But I need so much to be inside you right now so... I don't know if I'm going to be patient enough for the entire wish list that I have with you."

"There will be time to be explorers, baby. Now we have to quench our thirst."

Jax smiled. His naughty hands released my bra and my underwear was left at my feet. He ran through me with his bright eyes and I felt beautiful and perfect, as always when he looked at me. It made me feel like the only woman in the world that mattered. He made me strong and invincible and at the same time, he made me his by just putting his eyes on me.

"I'll thirst for you until the day I die."

He picked me up and left me on the bed. I lay there, watching him go nude. His body without clothes was a gift for the eyes. Jax Teller in all his masculine splendor, virile and excited. He put his right knee between my thighs, and I opened space to him when he lay full on my body. His hard erection hit my stomach as his mouth claimed every corner of my skin.

We don't talk about divorce, we don't talk about what we were supposed to do, because we were stuck in our bubble of happiness. Our two days of parenthesis away from the world.

I traced all of Jax's strong body with my hands, bent my legs up to squeeze her hips tightly and I leaned my heels on her buttocks. I arched when he put my breasts in my mouth and fed on them without stopping looking at me. I know I started asking for things. I told him to go faster, I think ... or maybe I told him I wanted him more slowly. I can not remember it. I just felt like the whole world went dark because all the color was in that bed, in the middle of my body and Jax's.

"You're so wet..." he growled. His fingers sunk inside me. I moaned loudly, my eyes on him. "I want to see you come, babe. I dreamed about your damn face during orgasm for six months."

"I'm going to please you in a minute."

Then Jax denied. His fingers abandon my sex and I feel... empty. I grabbed his body with my arms and saw him smile. He put his fingers inside his mouth and ate me. I felt that it was breaking me, he knew it.

"You're the sweetest thing I've ever tasted."

His dick pressed my belly and then my entrance. I felt greedy and anxious. I had not forgotten for a second what it was like to make love to Jax. Strong or soft, it was an experience that devastated me and, at the same time, made me reborn. I longed for his movements, his caresses and his dirty words. I also missed when he was tender and sweet, when he whispered words to me and made it last. I was losing my head and he was enjoying it, moving slowly, brushing my entrance and making me beg.

"I need you, Jax. Now. Inside of me."

"I know you want me, babe." He lowered his head and bit my lip. "I'm a good husband and I'm not going to make you wait."

I felt every inch of him inside me with a deep movement of his hips. Jax had that particular way of making love... he rotated his waist and moved in and out, sunk to the hilt. He rested his arms on the sides of my head and looked into my eyes with my face contracted with pleasure. He began to move firm, ramming from the beginning, causing me to arch and lift the back of the bed.

My ankles grabbed his thighs and my fingers were claws on his back. He kissed me everywhere, he left his mouth on my forehead and then he carried it to my ear to whisper to me words that made my sex contract around his with force.

"You're mine. My wife, my lover. You have always been mine, since the first time you breathed air near me." He groaned, putting the palm of his hand on the bed and lifting his torso to have a wider angle of movement. "No other will have you as I do, you'll not want another as badly as you want me just like now, here, in you."

"I am dying… Jackson…"

Jax closed her eyes for a second. He moved quickly. He moved very strong. He was devastating. I had my hands on his warm skin and felt the speed and the roughness of his movements. He growled loudly. His fingers grabbed my hair, his chest and shoulders fell on me.

"I know. I'm dying too. Your pussy will be my coffin."

Jax was crazy with desire, with passion. I could barely stand it. My legs ached but I kept them tight around them, lifted my body off the bed and stuck my teeth into his shoulder when the fire of orgasm pierced me. I moaned and my head fell on the bed. The room was spinning. My whole body was pure tension, the skin was delicate and trembling. The climax had been too much. I felt broken with relief.

Jax lifted her body again, he closed his hand on one of my breasts and rested both knees on the bed to push himself further. He rammed me one, twice and then, his sweaty head fell on me. I closed my eyes and felt him come. I felt his hot and wet explosion falling down my thighs...

Wait, what?

"Fuck..." I heard him say, his mouth pressed to my chest. His breathing not normal yet. "Shit babe... I forgot the condom."

So, talking about complicated situations...


	10. No regrets

**_Well, I'm back with a new chapter :)_**

 ** _Again, I feel that it takes me so long but you already know... I write in Spanish and I try to translate it so that everything is understood and is canon with the way of speaking and expressing in the series._**

 ** _I love the chapters from the thought of Jax! I really liked the show when you heard his voice, his way of analyzing what was happening, his point of view... here is a mature Jax, adult, I know that many readers enjoy it and I love it that way too! I hope you like this one._**

 ** _Here is some clarity about the problems of marriage... I have taken a bit of the plot of Pope... we know that in jail, Jax had the intention of volunteering at that time of "one must die" and finally he had no chance... I used that to give information about why they are having problems... why our OC feels betrayed and why she feels that he left her blind making decisions._**

 ** _Let me know what you think! I appreciate the comments, their favs and follows on this story. I really enjoy it. Soon there will be more cabin, more romance and more problems, because this is Samcro, and we live every day solving the day before._**

 ** _Thank you all!_**

 ** _Note: Chapter with sex!_**

* * *

 _ **10**_

 _ **No regrets**_

 _Jax Point of View_

Happiness doesn't exist.

I don't want to be misunderstood, at this moment, lying in bed, breathing still agitated, my body wet with sweat and my wife lying next to me I felt quite happy, but that feeling, that joy was only going to last a moment

Because complete happiness, free of black thoughts and worries, doesn't exist.

People look for moments like these, small patches of ignorance to take refuge from the truth. Laugh with your friends, hug your mother, make love with the woman you're in love with... we steal seconds from our reality clock. That's the only way to keep us sane.

"What are you thinking about?"

I turned my head on the pillow and smiled. Twisted my body around until I was on my side and used my fingers to trace the curved line of my wife's mouth. Her swollen, red and wet lips made my eyes shine. After six months, I had needed so much to be inside her that I was afraid of having broken her with my impetus. She seemed fine, although the dark shadow was beginning to stain her eyes.

As I said, complete happiness doesn't exist.

"I'm thinking about how much I miss this mouth in some very special part of my body, babe".

"Good try, Teller".

I saw her move until her back was set against the pillows. Her hair was disheveled and her body covered by the sheets on the bed. It was beautiful, but I was a simple man and I never needed great gestures or very fine lingerie to feel inspired by a woman.

In fact, if she wore the sweaty shirt that I had been wearing during the day, that was enough fuel for me.

I tangled my fingers in hers. Our eyes connected.

"What do you want to do?" I asked, leaving the jokes and other issues aside to go to the point we both had in our heads. "I can drive to the town and get you some shit for the day after or something like that if it's what you want".

"That's not smart." She reached out and grabbed my hair firmly. "You, with your blond hair and your cut... you're not the kind of person that goes unnoticed, Jax. And after what you did..."

"Yeah ... I know that, babe. But if you really get peace of mind, I am willing to take the risk".

"To go to jail again?" She began to deny. I saw her take a breath and then release it with force. All the peace after sex had gone down the drain. "I'm not going to risk that".

We both remain silent. My head was a mess drawer about to explode. The matter with the Maya, the loss of Demian and now the likelihood of having my wife pregnant was too much for me to digest. I didn't put everything in the bag of bad things, because when I imagined a child something in my chest became sweet and hot. I was tender and docile when I thought of someone small and soft calling me dad... but this was a very bad time for that.

She was right. I was under house arrest those days, because although I pretended that things were okay, I had killed a man in cold blood just a few hours ago, and that's one thing not easily to forget.

In fact, I would possibly live with it the fucking rest of my life. It did not matter if that stupid bastard deserved death, giving it to myself made me something that was hard to reconcile with the image of a loving husband and father.

I knew that. My wife knew it too.

"The last time we thought I was pregnant was not like that". She said, lost in the thread of her own thoughts. "Why would it be different now?"

"The only question that matters to me, babe, is… do you want it to be different this time?"

She shrugged her shoulders. I drew her body to me and kissed her forehead and lips. It was a soft kiss. I didn't know if that was a complete reconciliation... I wasn't so deluded, but I would grab whatever I had while I could hold it.

"I'm not ready to talk about that now, Jax. These two days, together, here... I would like to try to focus on that, forget the reasons that have brought us to be locked up, forget the consequences that could have what you and I just did".

"I understand that". Forgetting seemed like a good thing when your plate was too full of shit. The possibility of my arrest was still real, it was too early to know if I was safe. "I think you should rest a little. Sleep and don't let the idea that your husband, who has killed a man tonight, may have made you pregnant while you try to get him to sign the divorce papers".

She crashed her head against the pillow. It seemed impossible, but I saw her smile. Fuck... I love this woman with madness.

"Yes... sleep seems like a good plan". She closed her eyes tightly. "Don't wake me up in a hundred years, please".

"To start, I'll give you a few hours". I kissed her and then, got out of bed. I rummaged in the suitcase and found my sweatpants and a white T-shirt. Afterwards, I grabbed my zippo and the cigar box. "I'm going to be outside, if you need me, shout for me".

I turned around, but then my wife's small hand grabbed mine. She clutched my fingers, silent. I lowered my eyes and contemplated our union, unbreakable in spite of everything. She was holding my hand; the hand that had previously pulled the trigger of a weapon and stopped the heart of a human being. My heart was overwhelmed with humility.

"I love you Jackson. No matter what".

I squatted by the bed and gave him a soft smile. I should be happy with that declaration of love, but I couldn't. She loved me in spite of everything... but I only wished for her that she could love me without burdens.

"I know I said this before, babe, and I know that the things I've done make your confidence in me close to breaking, but I give you my word that all this shit is going to straighten up". I kissed her fingers, then I released her hand and I wrapped it with tenderness. "One day, soon, you'll not need to force your mind to stop thinking so you can sleep by my side without bad dreams".

I imagined that, in those moments, my wife found it hard to believe my words, but she said nothing. She closed her eyes again and I let her go of slowly. I hoped that she would get to sleep and rest her mind on everything that had happened.

I left the bedroom in the dark. The zippo flame brought a little light to the shadows and I sucked the cigar deeply. I rummaged in my cut pockets until I found the prepaid and glanced at it. There was nothing. That was good. When the news was missing... it was good news.

I leaned against the window, looking out at the quiet night that had fallen around the cabin. I held the cigar in my mouth and combed my hair with my fingers. Closed my eyes a moment, breathed slowly and counted many numbers until my heart got a smooth rhythm.

I thought about taking apart my gun and cleaning it. Or maybe write a few lines in the little secret notebook that I was writing, but I didn't find the strength to move. I felt the cold of the floor in my bare feet and the skin of my arms stood up. I appreciated that because feeling something helped me in my battle. I needed to feel myself like a man, like a person with emotion, because at that moment, with the silence screaming in my ear and the darkness around, the monster that I knew lived under my flesh, became noisy.

I had no regrets. I wasn't sorry. If I could turn back the clock, I would have made exactly the same decision.

A loved person had been hurt on my watch, and that in my world, in my moral code, meant death. Without discussion. I knew I would pull the trigger again. I would probably have to do it again in the future, because as Chibs had told me with wisdom, nothing could be built without destroying before.

I had promised my wife a beautiful life, and all I had gotten was a prison sentence and a threat of divorce. Things had twisted, I recognized that, but while I was still breathing I could try to fix them.

That, if my instinct didn't take me behind bars again.

I smoked until I finished the box of cigarettes, then dragged my tired body to the couch and I crashed. I closed my eyes, let my head fall back and I had no awareness of anything else... until something very soft stroked my cheeks. I felt delicate fingers brushing my beard, pulling on my goatee. Even with my eyes closed, I appreciated the change in the light... it must have dawned, and that meant that I had spent the night on the sofa without intending it.

The habit, I presume.

I smiled without opening my eyes. The weight of a small body climbed into my lap, settling on my legs.

"I like it when you take what you want, Hap... but we're going to have to learn to disguise better or the guys will discover our romance".

The delicate hand then pulled hard on my beard and I laughed. I opened my eyes and saw the frown of my wife, who was wearing her nightgown and was balancing to hold on to me. I put my arms around her and gave her a small kiss.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sleep out here".

"You needed some deep rest, that's why I left you here". She said, extending her arms around my neck. "Besides... I've gotten used to having the whole bed to myself".

"You certainly know how to hurt the ego of a man, babe".

She smiled. I loved her that way, sleepy, playful... the brightness in her eyes told me that she was looking for me for more than a few morning kisses. Well... she had found me.

"Lucky you, I also know how to repair that too".

My wife's hand searched under my pants and my morning wood rise up for her. A soft moan came from my lips and I grabbed his nape with my fingers to bring it closer to me. She rubbed hard, I was hard and on the verge of death, because after so much time, our meeting the night before hadn't been enough.

"You'll be my death". I told her, in a low hiss, brushing her mouth with mine.

"And you want it to be fast... or slow?"

"Fuck..." She strangled my erection between her fingers. my eyes narrowed, but I wanted to stay awake. I wanted to feel all and control myself so I wouldn't end up wetting my pants like a teenager. "Babe... I can't believe I'm saying this, but before things get hotter, we have to stop and..."

She showed me her other hand, where the silver package of a condom. I swear I fell more for her at that moment.

"I've taken it from your wallet". She whispered, releasing me to open the condom. When he began to cover me with him, I threw a hoarse curse. "By the way, your driver's license will expire in three months. You must not forget it".

"You're amazing". I whispered, lifting my hips and ravaging her nightgown on the way. My hands knew where to go too. His entrance was wet and soft, ready for me. "You have my cock in your hands and you're talking to me about my driving license".

"I'm a woman, Jax. We're multitasking".

"Oh yeah? Well, I have a task for that tongue of yours, babe. Right here, inside my mouth".

I kissed her dirty. Very, very dirty, while my big hands lifted her up to place her just above the tip of my swollen penis. The union was perfect, a little rough and very deep, but that was how we liked love, rough and very deep. My wife rested her knees on the couch and she began to move in a delicious rhythm that made us both moan. I grabbed her by the waist, pressed on her ass and squeezed her tightly against my chest.

At one point, she pulled my shirt over my head and laid her face on my chest. He kissed me and sucked, I think she bit me too, but I cannot be sure. My mind had only one clear thought at that moment: never stop. If I had to suffer a heart attack, that should be the way I left the world, fucking with the love of my life.

"Oh my God... Jax..."

"I know, babe... I know... let me see how you're going... look me in the eyes... and let me see how I made you happy".

My big rough hands pressed the soft flesh of her hips, I lifted my body off the couch to sink deeper and then, her inner muscles drowned me. Nothing remained, neither consciousness, nor pain, nor worries, only the flash of pleasure, the electric whiplash in the column and then... the little death. I emptied myself, every drop of love, sex and pleasure.

Exhausted my wife crashed against my body and I stroked her bare knees, which she had flexed to the sides of my body. I had not even taken off her nightgown. Her panties lay on the floor, but I also did not remember taking them off. It was a fast and desperate encounter. As if we both were afraid that in the near future, the time of being together would be little.

I felt her breathing. Blood was flowing through my veins at full speed. I wanted to smoke. I was hungry and I felt the sweat trickling down my body. It was still inside her body. The condom was full and I knew that, eventually, I should move to get it out. Probably my wife would like to take a shower and then have breakfast.

Many emotions and feelings. Many mundane and human things that mixed in my head, but above all of them ... a truth that itched on my tongue. A few words that I had not said because I knew that doing it condemned me. A reality that could not be silenced because every second that kept it saved, its weight crushed me.

I tangled my hand in her hair, gentle. She moved her mouth and kissed my nipple. I smiled a second, then I got serious again.

"I don't regret".

"Ummm well, that's good baby". She said the voice was opaque because it was attached to my body. "I would be offended if you said that after what we just did".

"No... I don't mean to fuck you. That's not what I'm talking about". My body tensed. What was coming was not pretty. "I'm talking about what happened when I was in prison. I have no regrets".

Then, she raised her beautiful eyes and put them stuck in mine. She lay still on top of me, but I could feel her body getting colder. That was a difficult subject to deal with... it was why we were in that situation, with our marriage almost sunk in the shit.

"When Pope's thing happened... I didn't know what it was going to cost, babe. I didn't know the man's reach but I knew it was dangerous. Being locked in his fist made us more vulnerable than ever". I put my head against the fabric of the sofa and took a deep breath. Remembering those days still twisted my guts. "Opie wasn't focused at that moment, my confidence wasn't completely set on Tig and Chibs had already lost too much for the Club to ask for anything more".

"That man was a sadist, Jax... a savage, what he asked..."

"He was testing us. But if it had not been like that... my decision would have been the same. Always". I took her face in my hands when she turned her gaze away from me. "If Pope really had wanted a Son dead, you would have had to pick up my body in a box. I'm sorry to tell you this, and I am sorry I had to make the decision at the time I did, but that was the only option for me. I couldn't give up the life of a brother, nor let any of them make that sacrifice for me. The president patch means many things, my love, dying for Samcro is one of them".

The anguish of that night in the cell returned to my brain and tortured me. Pope wanted one of us dead and for me there was no other name on the hat than mine.

I remembered my appointment with Lowell and all those papers I signed. I declared without hesitation that all those things that could endanger my wife were in me. I signed that she had never known anything about the club, the weapons or my work outside the the TM. I practically made sure that she was a simple silly woman who had never asked questions, nor had answers to give. Because his freedom was everything I wanted to get, and I wrote some convincing papers for that in case I didn't get out of jail alive.

When Pope said his sentence had only been a test, I broke the papers and I destroyed my hands punching with rage against the walls... but that did not stop my wife found out about everything, and our nightmare continued to grow.

I had tried to protect her. I would always try to do it, just as it was my duty to protect those who carried the patch with me. That's who I am, and I don't know how to change it. I don't know if I want to do it either.

"I'll can't forgive you for volunteering for such a horrible thing like that, Jax". She told me, with her heart bleeding in her hands. Her words were real, I didn't doubt that. "I don't know if I can forgive one day that you were willing to let them kill you".

"You know I would have offered battle until my last breath, babe". I put my forehead in hers. "I would have gone with your memory in my head. You would have been my last thought, isn't that romantic?"

"Go to hell, Jax".

I hugged her tightly. I had joked about the matter, I wanted to know why she was more angry, if by the paper where he almost declared her as a fool, or by the arrangement that had come with Pope. Of course, my wife never found joy in my joke attempts... and she made it very clear to me when she kicked me out of our house and started sending me the divorce papers.

I had kept her blind about my security in prison and about my decision to turn myself in as Pope's victim. With the words that I had written in my statement, I practically nullified our relationship, so she felt that the marriage no longer made sense, because I had begun to make decisions for both of them.

I couldn't blame her for that, but she couldn't blame me either.

"What name did you want me to give, babe? Chibs? Tig?" I felt her denying. The fingers that I had on his face got wet and I knew he was crying. "That was an impossible decision to make".

"And you decided to leave me without you".

"If Pope had gone ahead with his threat and one of the boys had to die, babe... I wouldn't have pity". I looked at her. My blue eyes empty of compassion. "What I did for Demian would be nothing compared to what I would do if I saw one of my brothers die in front of me. That would have made me a monster, and you didn't deserve to live with someone like that".

"That keeps leaving me with the problem of you dead, Jax. When I think about it... God, when I think it could have been anyone..."

I squeezed harder, clutching his flesh against mine. At that moment I felt I could never let go. I love her so much... and I still felt on the tightrope. I hadn't passed the danger, I could still lose it.

"That chapter is already closed, baby. Completely. I want to apologize for doing what I did and for making the decisions without you, but you have to know, that, if I ever find myself in the same situation, that's what I'll do. I'm not going to let anyone I love be hurt if I can avoid it, and if my body fails to protect you, I'll make sure everything is left so you can continue living, even if you hate me for that".

"You hurt me a lot, Jax... I felt betrayed, and although I understand that handing over any of the boys was impossible, you gave yourself to my heart. It still hurts me. It hurts me a lot".

"I'm sorry, babe. I am so, so sorry".

Her arms gripped me too. Eventually we would have to get up, but we both needed a minute to process that. I closed my eyes tightly, and I felt wet, but that didn't matter. I wasn't ashamed to cry for something that deserved my tears, and that pain in my wife's chest, was certainly worth my cry. It had been a very difficult month and there was still a long way to go. The morning was breaking, I had two days almost to spend together in the cabin, hopefully, without more sad memories, but always with the awareness of what our decisions and mistakes had brought us.

Silently, with my wife huddled against my chest, I allowed myself to think for a second last night, where I had taken a life and then, perhaps... I had conceived another. If she was pregnant I would never let her go. And of course, I wasn't willing to let myself be killed if there was a creature to see grow up. For my son, I would be strong to build an honest and clean club with my own hands.

That thought gave me hope.

After all, the world found its way and the sun always came out, even for a dark man like me.


End file.
